Today's Darkness, Tomorrow's Shadows
by MikoNoNyte
Summary: Shadow Hearts Tradition: The Alternate Ending! Is Yuri redeemed? Or is he condemned to eternal damnation at the hands of Amon? Read the warning, People!
1. Continuation

A dark little tale following the "Sad Ending."  PG-13 for language. 

Thanks go to Gutterfiend for her transcription of the Game.  The Characters and Story of Shadow Hearts belongs to Sacnoth and Midway.  I have borrowed freely from sources for World War I, placing real people and real events throughout; however, any errors are mine.  To learn more about World War I, The War To End All Wars,  please refer to the following addresses: and .  

Chapter One: Continuation

_"Somebody told me that after a loved one's death, all we have is memories ... And these we maintain in eternal bond with the dead."  - Koudelka_

            The train pulled into the station and, in a cloud of steam, the passengers debarked.  One was a strikingly beautiful blonde-haired woman, her hair pulled back in a chignon, a few strands falling loosely around her face; she had full lips and bright hazel eyes that hinted at humor.  Her dress was flamboyant, a short blue skirt, bustier in black, topped off by a faded blue coat and black fishnet stockings and black boots.  She checked her one small case and ran down the station platform.  She had a taxi cabriolet to catch and champagne to drink!

            Later that day Margarete Zelle was sitting by the pool at the hotel.  She had changed into a scandalously brief bikini and was enjoying her champagne when the concierge approached with a telegram and a newspaper.  Margarete eyed the handsome young man as he presented the yellow envelope on the silver tray, and then retreated into the hotel lobby.  Then she opened the letter.

Malkovich new assignment stop will follow with details for transportation tomorrow stop personal message received from Zurich stop Alice Elliot dead her assailant-jailed end.

            "What?  Alice dead?"  Margarete dropped the champagne glass and re-read the telegram.  The first sentences and her new assignment were nothing.  It was the death of her friend, a mere week after they parted at Rouen, that brought her breath in short gasps and a fist clenched to her breast.  "No," she whispered, tears tracing a path down her cheeks.

            The newspaper lay forgotten on the lounge, the headlines blaring in bold black letters: **August 4, 1914: It is War!  Britain declares war on Germany.  **

            War broke out between France and Germany and, even before France could mobilize her troops, the Germans had invaded Belgium and were sending their army across the border from Lorraine, the former French province.  France found itself with a frontal zone extending from Belgium in the north to Switzerland in the south.  Heavy artillery was used against the forts of Liege in Belgium with their 35,000 troops; the great guns, including the massive Big Bertha, plowing under anything they hit, and they hit a lot.  Civilians, soldiers, it did not matter.  In Dinant, the French advance prevented the Germans from crossing the bridge into the Belgian town.  But two days later those German forces over-ran the French platoon defending the bridge, gathered the local residents and, lining them up against the church wall, shot all 612 of them, including a three week old baby.  Down the valley in Seilles, fifty villagers were shot and, at the mining town of Tamines, 384 civilians were collected and met a similar fate.  Through all of Belgium and the border towns of France were told similar stories.  The body count was rising and it was only the first month of hostilities.

            Margarete slammed closed the back door of the ambulance.  She had checked the inventory of medical supplies, including the extremely hard-to-get penicillin, and now walked around toward the driver's door.  Catching sight of herself in the mirror, she paused, tugging at the white uniform with its red-cross armband.  A frown creased her brow at her dowdy reflection.

            'Not the attire I would prefer,' she thought, 'but it will get me to my next assignment, and we DO need the supplies at the front.'

            "All set Margie?" a deep voice said from the front of the truck. 

            Margarete looked up to see Michele closing the bonnet. The tall Frenchman was her fellow nurse and headed for the front as well.  "Yes.  All set.  I'm driving," and she pulled open the ambulance door and got in.  "Next stop, the Front, and God help any Bosch in my way."  Michele looked askance as Margie but said nothing as he climbed in beside her.  Margarete started the ambulance and pulled out onto the roadway.

            After hours of driving Margarete turned off the main roadway toward Reims. Michele had attempted limited conversation the first hour, but soon found Margie's taciturn attitude more than he could handle and remained silent.  It was just as well.  The road was little more than a dirt track, ruts from the hard wheels of the vehicles had dug deep and Margarete had difficulty keeping the ambulance centered.  A couple of deep ruts nearly tipped the top-heavy truck onto its side, but she managed to right it with a hard sharp turn of the wheel.  She was on the way to Reims, and not at all happy.  Heavy fighting had turned eastern France into one long battlefield, with the German and French lines facing off at Mons just this week.  The carnage was continuing even as she drove with the fresh supplies and mentally raking herself for a way to get through the lines and to Switzerland.  Desertion was not an option, but she had to get to Zurich.  She must!  Nevertheless, for right now, the call of her country kept her heading east on this pit of a road.

            August 22, 1914.  The British had arrived in France and, under the direction of General Horace Smith-Dorrien.  Their first real battle began at Casteau, a small village a little outside of Mons.  The Royal Irish Dragoon Guards spotted a group of German soldiers in their distinctive grey uniforms and opened fire.  The Germans withdrew, but two hours later, a British reconnaissance flight over Mons and Soigniers was shot down by German artillery.  Both pilots were killed.  The Battle of Mons had begun.  Throughout that day the French troops continued to advance against the Germans to the east of the British forces.  In an attempt to drive the Germans from Neufchateau, five French battalions confronted nine German battalions; bayonet met bayonet, and machine-gun fire struck down the French officers. 

            Margarete Zelle abandoned her ambulance and nurse's whites in Reims and, taking up a change of uniform, borrowed a motorcycle, and headed east, crossing the River Meuse at Charleville.  Her goal: the French advance postings at Onhaye just out of Dinant.  She carried dispatches for General Mangin in command of a reserve brigade with infantry battalions and a cavalry regiment and had hopes, afterwards, of crossing the line into Lorraine.

            By the end of August, the French and British forces were in retreat from Mons, the Germans hot on their heels.  Margarete had delivered her dispatches to Onhaye in time for the rout.  Deciding this was her best opportunity, she quickly ditched her French cycle and uniform, changing into a less-fitting uniform taken from a fallen German courier.  She hoped that anyone looking at her would not notice the obvious female anatomy or think twice about the blond hair, which she braided and tucked inside the helmet.  Kick starting the battered NSU motorcycle, Margarete headed southeast toward Luxembourg.

            'Now for some down to wholesome spying!' she thought.  'And pray God I'm not too late for Zurich.'

            It is early fall and the weather is just starting to turn chill.  The long summer months with their greenery and flowers are giving way to the bright red, oranges and yellows of autumn.  The sun still shines as bright, but the nights are colder.  And in a prison cell in Zurich, Yuri Hyuga could feel the difference.  Not that he cared.  With cold unseeing eyes, he sat in his cell.  Unmoving.  Unfeeling.  Numb to all inquiries made by guard and priest alike, he sat on the floor, his back to the wall, and stared into nothingness.

            His outer clothing, his coat and belts, his weapons and recovery items were confiscated when he was arrested for the suspicious death of Alice Elliot.  By rights, he should have been shivering in the chilled recesses of the prison, but he did not respond.  His mind was lost in the darkness of his memories and the coldness of his cell meant nothing.

_The fog that night had been low lying, hugging the ground like a second skin.  It rose in coils above the rice fields and whispered around hillocks like a veil.  Yuri had taken the girl from the train, as that damned voice had instructed him, fighting some thrice damned Englisher for the girl, and nearly dying in the process.  Now the girl lay unconscious in his arms, a featherweight, smelling slightly of lilacs.  He looked at her for a moment before placing her on the dirt by the railroad tracks, a small tuft of grass for her bed.  He knelt by her, the sporadic moonlight spotting her briefly and setting his heart to pounding.  She was beautiful!  She had pale blond hair, lips like two flower petals gently touching; long eyelashes softly caressing her cheeks.  He bent closer and inhaled her scent again.  She smelled delicious!  He reached out a tentative hand toward her very short skirt, wondering if he should follow his instincts and brave the wonders, but then thought better of it.  That damned voice after all, had a way of knowing every move he made.  Still ~ _

_He rose instead and turned away, offering the recumbent lady a little privacy while he stood watch for danger.  She would awaken soon enough, he hoped.  And a few moments later the young woman did just that and, trying to ease her obvious discomfort he reached out to touch her, in jest, and sent her screaming into the night.  A moment later, his head was splitting with the voice from hell telling him to protect.  _

_"Arrgh!! That hurts!  Not that damn voice again!" he cursed as he fell to his knees in the dirt.  "Stupid voices!  Okay, I got it, I'm supposed to protect her, right?" he shook off the pain and mentally kicked himself.  "Look but don't touch.  Shit!"_

_Yuri followed the girl down the foggy path, reaching an impasse at the sluice, but then he heard her scream._

_"Typical," he muttered.  He took the right hand path and found the girl once face down on the ground.  "Hey, what are you doin'?  Were you attacked?"  The girl did not move or speak so he moved closer, kneeling at her side.  "Humph, looks like I'm the one who's getting all tingly inside," he said with a smirk.  "Maybe I should ...?"  Instead, he stood up and kicked the ground.  "Hey!  Hello?"_

_The girl shook her head slowly and looked around, confused, before rising to her feet._

_"Hey, girlie, I bust my hump savin' you and you take one look at me and run off.  What is your problem?  You got no manners, y'know?  Shit!  If I didn't have to protect you..."_

_"Protect me?"_

_"Yeah, someone or something is damn insistent that I look after you," Yuri said.  He rubbed the back of his neck.  "Painfully insistent."_

_They spent the next few hours waiting for a sluice to clear the pathway beyond the rice fields.  Little did he know what lie in store for him the next few days._

_Once the sluice had cleared, they crossed the rice field and headed south.  It was nearly midnight and the fog had lifted a little, only to be replaced by intermittent clouds and a deepening chill.  Yuri, walking ahead, could almost hear the chatter of the girl's teeth.  He stopped for a moment, turning to check on her progress.  She was actually keeping up with him, her head down as she placed one foot in front of the other until she collided with him._

_"Ooof!"  _

_"Hey, girlie, watch it," he said with a lopsided grin.  "You okay?  Cold maybe?"_

_Alice stepped back a comfortable distance and surveyed the darkness.  "I-I'm all right.  Where are we going, anyway?  You never said."_

_Yuri shrugged and grunted his disgust at such a stupid question.  "Fengtian.  It's the nearest large town and will get us just about anywhere else in China."_

_Alice made a moue and then bit her tongue.  'Fengtian?  Where the Japanese were taking me?'_

_"Is that all right with you, Alice?  I mean," he turned and scanned the darkness.  "We might be able to find a village around here for the night.  And some food.  I'm kinda hungry."_

_"That would be nice, Yuri," Alice said softly.  "Whatever you want is fine."_

_Yuri looked down at the little blond.  'Such a mouse,' he thought.  'How can she be the one opening the Door to Darkness?'  Yuri shrugged and turned down the road, mentally shuddering at the memory of his nightmare; he had fallen asleep at the fire while they waited for the water to recede.  At least he hoped it was a nightmare.  His nemesis had arrived at the fire, his father, wearing a carnival mask from Yuri's youth.  His father - the God of Death, in Yuri's mind.  He confronted Yuri and beat him down like a child.  Yuri awoke with the realization of his own cursed existence and the clock ticking down rapidly to his death._

            Time passed slowly and the Zurich magistrate finally rendered judgement on the death of Alice Elliot.  Although they found her death suspicious, there were no mitigating circumstances pending to continue to hold her alleged assailant.  However, that same man was paperless in a country now surrounded by warring hostiles.  Moreover, that man also showed evidence of insanity.  It was a more sensible course to send him to prison for the duration of the war, unless or until some more reasonable course could be taken.  Thus, the next morning guards arrived at Yuri Hyuga's cell to place binders on him and take him away.  He remained apathetic and quiescent. 

            The transport cart trundled along the side road to the prison a few miles outside of Zurich, its narrow wheels catching in the ruts and threatening to crash onto its side.  It had begun to rain which added to the difficulty for the driver.  Inside, several prisoners were holding on for dear life to the chains that held them securely to rings below the seats, all except one who stared into nothing.  Yuri Hyuga was unaware of the rocking cart, the chains that bound him arm and leg to the ring.  What played in his mind was his only reality, his eternal bond with the dead.

_The train from Paris left in the early afternoon, giving Yuri and Alice time to explore and enjoy the morning before departure.  Once aboard, a playful Yuri offered his lap for Alice's seat, a not quite lecherous grin playing across his lips. _

_"Ah, c'mon Alice.  I promise I won't bite.  Much."_

_Alice eyed the offered temptation with a shy twinkle in her eyes, but then turned it down with a giggle._

_"Ah, I'll just sit here," she said and took the space next to him.  _

_Yuri grinned affably and scooted closer, pinning her to the seat, one arm coming around to hold her as he bent his head down and kissed her._

_"Yuri!"  Alice exclaimed, but Yuri was undaunted._

_"Just a little kissie, Alice," he said with a light beginning to glow in his almond shaped eyes.  "Just a little one, pleeease," he wheedled, then pressed his lips once more to her soft mouth.  Alice did not protest, instead her free hand grabbed his coat lapel and pulled, bringing him closer._

_When he pulled back for air, he laughed breathily.  "Ya' see, I told ya' you'd like it."_

_Alice chuckled softly.  "You are incorrigible, Yuri.  But I love you."_

_"Ah, well, that is fine then.  We have kids, yes?  Lots of kids ..." _

_Alice laughed, gently touching one finger to Yuri's nose.  "You are getting ahead of yourself, Harmonixer."_

_Yuri grinned toothily.  "Not far enough, Exorcist."_

_The kissing did not stop until the train was well underway.  By then the couple had cuddled close to catch a few hours sleep before the train began its long climb into the Alps._

_When Yuri awoke a few hours later, he found Alice leaning against his shoulder much as she had when they fell asleep looking into each other's eyes.  However, when he gently shook her to bring her awake, his heart froze in his chest.  She was gone.  Dead.  His beautiful fiancé had left him in the night, leaving him alone with his empty promise to protect her.  As tears formed in his eyes, he caressed her cheek with his rough hand, pressing his mouth against her chilling lips, refusing to let her go until he had tasted every inch of her pale, luminous face._

_When the concierge of the car found him, with Alice pulled onto his lap, his face buried on her shoulder, her hair unpinned and Yuri's hands where they should not be, he immediately placed him under arrest.  The man was obviously a murderer and a perverted necrophiliac._

            Margarete Zelle was not only tired she was pissed.  Her course through Lorraine, then Alsace had been one of avoidance.  Avoid the active troop movements, but get enough information to pass on to headquarters, the size and number of troops, armament, equipment, whatever would help the cause.  This was accomplished easily since her courier disguise seemed to be working.  What she had not expected was the time involved in crossing into Switzerland.  Nearly a month had passed and she felt an overwhelming sense of urgency.

            'What if something has happened to him?  What if he was executed?  No!' she thought as she gunned the German motorcycle up the last stretch of road out of Winterthur.  Just a little further to Zurich.  'No, they wouldn't do that.  He did not kill Alice.  However, they might imprison him; too many hostiles around to leave one more running around the streets of Zurich, especially Yuri.  The kiddo has a tendency to act on his emotions.  I will probably find him in jail.  Please God, let him be in jail.'

            However, when Margarete arrived in Zurich and checked with the Magistrate she met bad news. 

            "I am sorry, Miss Malkovich.  That man was transported to prison three weeks ago.  However, the cart had an accident enroute and he escaped.  We have no idea of his whereabouts."

            'Shit!'  Margarete mentally cursed.  "Where is the prison?" 

            "It's on the road to Aarau, you cannot miss it."

            "Fine.  I'll take his personals."

            "May I ask why a member of the French government is after this man?" the magistrate said as he looked again at Margarete's documentation.

            "Let us just say, he's a very wanted man in Paris.  It's my job to bring him back."

            Once Margarete left the court, Yuri's small satchel in hand, she headed for the telegraph office.  

            'Where are you, Yuri?  Damn it to hell, why didn't you wait?  What the hell is your problem?!?'

            The road to Aarau:  backwoods came to mind.  Margarete struggled to keep the thin-wheeled motorcycle from hitting any of the narrow tracks dug deep into the dirt road.  It had rained the night before and the sides of the road had become a quagmire of mud that invited Margarete in for a swim.  She did not intend to put herself into the sticky goo.  At twenty kilometers from town, she found the remains of the cart, still on its side but pushed off the road.  She came to a stop just beyond the wreck and went back for a look.

            It was a standard prison transport cart with steel rings in the floorboards beneath the bench seats, its side panels merely reinforced wood.  Margarete checked the interior and found one ring literally yanked from the floor, the shreds of wood evidence of great strength used against it.  Margarete fingered the wet sawdust before checking the exterior.  That showed no signs of distress other than the usual for such a vehicle.  After the accident, it was pushed off the road, so Margarete followed the trail out onto the muddy road.  There was a deep gouge in the roadway where the cart had overturned, and the faded remains of heavy boot-prints around that; the prisoner's were smudged with the chains bound to their feet, but another set of prints showed distinct from the rest.  These were huge footprints, no shoe or boot could leave these marks.  It looked more like an animal's foot, large with five toes ending in sharp claws; the toe claws leaving punctures in the dirt when the creature walked.  Margarete shuddered.

            "Good God," she breathed.  "Could he have fused?"  She followed the trail of clawed footprints to the edge of the road and the smashed-down grasses at the verge.  Beyond the edge of the road was the beginning of a valley leading north.  With a sigh, Margarete stepped off the road and slid down the embankment to the bottom of a slight gully.  Just beyond a small copse of gorse and shrub, she made out a trail of broken branches.  Whatever it was had headed this way. 

            Margarete climbed back to the roadway and the motorcycle.  She took the extra coat from the saddlebag, also grabbing her cache of supplies and Yuri's small satchel.  Then she turned back and plunged into the gully hot on the trail of – she hoped, Yuri!

End chapter 1


	2. Lost in the Haze

Rated PG-13 for language, and I am not kidding!

The Characters and Story of Shadow Hearts belongs to Sacnoth and Midway.  Again thanks to Gutterfiend for transcriptions, which I freely changed!  And for some reason, the address skipped out from the first chapter, so for those interested: www.firstworldwar.com.  Great site, not the usual dry history.  And, in case it is not obvious, Italics are the Past, not necessarily from the script. 

_What went before:_

            It was a standard prison transport cart with steel rings in the floorboards beneath the bench seats, its side panels merely reinforced wood.  Margarete checked the interior and found one ring literally yanked from the floor, the shreds of wood evidence of great strength used against it.  Margarete fingered the wet sawdust before checking the exterior.  That showed no signs of distress other than the usual for such a vehicle.  After the accident, it was pushed off the road, so Margarete followed the trail out onto the muddy road.  There was a deep gouge in the roadway where the cart had overturned, and the faded remains of heavy boot-prints around that; the prisoner's were smudged with the chains bound to their feet, but another set of prints showed distinct from the rest.  These were huge footprints, no shoe or boot could leave these marks.  It looked more like an animal's foot, large with five toes ending in sharp claws; the toe claws leaving punctures in the dirt when the creature walked.  Margarete shuddered.

            "Good God," she breathed.  "Could he have fused?"  

Chapter 2:  Lost in the Haze

_"Dead people don't speak.  It's just in your memories."  - Koudelka_

            The prison transport cart trundled heavily down the dirt road toward the prison, its wheels skidding through the soft dirt of the roadway.  Just before Aarau, one of its wheels slid into a rut and the cart toppled.  Prisoners and guards found themselves entangled within, each struggling for purchase on the now tilted floor.  The guards attempted to control the prisoners and prevent both injury and escape.  Yuri, however, his mind in a grey fog, acted without thinking.  One hand reached out and grabbed the chain binding him to the floor, yanking it will all his strength.  A moment later, the chain came loose with a squeal as the steel ring came up from the floor.  The guard next to him realized the danger as his prisoner was escaping, and tried to restrain the man, but Yuri merely knocked him aside, and punched one fist through the back door.  The reinforced wooden door went flying and Yuri jumped from the back and ran, his mind hearing a lone voice telling him to change, change, change.  Before he had taken half a dozen steps, he had grabbed his fusion, a dark companion in his mind, and melded his soul to its dark power.  The fusion Amon stomped onto the roadway, then jumped across to the verge and down into a gully.  A heartbeat later, he crashed through the scrub and into the nearby forest.

            He ran for nearly an hour, stomping through brush and low growing trees until the urge to escape ceased to scream in his foggy mind.  Then he paused, resting one armor-clad arm against a tree and felt the fusion release, the grip on his soul become easier and his sudden transition back to Yuri happened in a flash.  Near exhaustion suddenly sent him slumping to the ground, his knees digging into the mud.  Yuri felt his strength melt away and his muscles shake and cramp with fatigue.  Confused, he looked around.  Thick trees surrounded him, rising in blue-shadowed ridges ahead of him while behind him the lower valley was hazed in low-lying clouds.  Rain still drizzled down from the lowered sky and Yuri shuddered in his wet clothes.

            "Where the hell am I?" he muttered, his first coherent thought in weeks.  With a sigh, he turned his back to the tree and sat down, facing the way he had come.  Shivers of fatigue and cold wracked his thin frame and his stomach growled its empty protest.

            'Okay, rest then food,' he thought.  'And then – I have no idea.'  With a sigh, he closed his eyes and slipped into fretful slumber.

_They swam ashore at Dalian.  The stupid plane from the stupid airstrip had developed engine trouble and the stupid thing had fallen from the sky like a stupid rock.  Yuri ground his teeth in frustration.  Why the hell had he trusted that blond idiot with the explosives to get them safely away?  She was a foreigner for crying-out-loud!_

_'Ah shit, what am I thinking,' Yuri mused as he squeezed the water from his trench coat.  'So am I.'_

_"Hey, Margarete, what was with that plane?  I thought we were done for!"  Yuri said._

_"I-I never dreamed we'd crash!  Never --!  What a… a gutless plane that was!  I'm – I'm sorry!"  Margarete stood up from the dock and brushed at her coat uselessly._

_Yuri and Alice stood up, Yuri frowning at Margarete.  "You almost bought us a one-way ticket to hell!!" _

_"Don't you glare at me, Yuri.  That's not very nice.  Look on the bright side: we're all still alive, right?"  But at Yuri's continued glare and Alice's marked silence, "Okay, okay, I said I was sorry.  Sheesh!"  Margarete turned and headed up the dock toward the small town._

_"Should you be so hard on her, Yuri?"  Alice asked in her soft voice._

_Yuri looked at the diminutive blond and sighed.  "Probably not, but – " he shrugged.  "C'mon, let's go." _

_They joined Margarete at the Sea Turtle, a small restaurant.  She was talking up the bartender and was gesturing back toward the two as they entered._

_"Come on, just some lunch or something.  We haven't eaten and the kid's hungry.  You don't want to piss off a hungry growing boy," Margarete said loudly._

_The attendant nodded.  "All right, but you'll have to come back in an hour.  The owner is helping a sick man."_

_"An hour it is then."_

_"Maggie, what the he-" Yuri started to ask but Margarete grabbed his arm and pulled him outside.  _

_"Humor me, kiddo."_

_That night tragedy struck.  Alice was attacked by a dead spirit, Li Li, and was struck down with a deadly curse.  Unable to prevent it, and equally unable to offer a remedy, Yuri offered up his temper to the night.  Fortunately, help was on the way; a Taoist Adept named Zhuzhen.  Once the aged adept had arrived, they began the healing process, first for the town and then for Alice.  It meant fighting.  And yet more fighting and Yuri was in his element.  By the time midnight had arrived, the curse of the dead Li Li had been lifted and Alice was recovering.  Moreover, Margarete could finally stop making excuses to the locals for Yuri's horrible behavior._

_"If you don't stop behaving like a Mongol, I'm not going to feed you!" she had said at one point and Yuri, puzzled, stopped in his frustrated punching of one hapless doorway.  "No matter how many times you hit that door, it's not going to produce a cure.  So stop it!"_

_Yuri's jaw clenched but he stopped hitting the doorjamb and instead took his fists to the monsters.  And once Alice began to recover, he sat by her side and refused to move, even when it came time to eat.  Instead, the proprietor, called Sea Mother, served them where they sat, with Yuri offering suggestions on items he thought Alice might like, and the whole time trying not to laugh at her childish attempts at chopsticks._

_Later they walked across the town square toward the inn, Zhuzhen and Margarete leading the way.  Yuri stayed back with Alice and pulled her aside before reaching the inn door._

_"Tomorrow we'll try to find a way across to Shanghai.  But Alice, I want you to be more careful," he said._

_"I am being careful, Yuri.  I wasn't expecting  Li Li ..."_

_"It's not just that.  It's the monsters.  And Margarete.  And ... and other things," he finished on a hesitant note.  "I just don't want you hurt.  I promised to protect you but..."_

_"I know.  I believe you," Alice said with a shake of her head.  "I know you'll protect me.  Now, let us get some sleep, okay?"_

_Yuri nodded and followed her to the inn, but his thoughts were not on sleep.  'It is just I think I like you, Alice,' he thought.  'Front, back, side, any way I picture it I come up with liking you.'  _

_He sighed as they settled in for the night._

_'I must be crazy, fallin' for a girl like you,' he thought.  'Darkness and Light ... how can it work out?'_

            It was full dark and clouds obscured what starlight there was.  Yuri opened his eyes to the night and renewed confusion.  He shook his head to remember where he was and realized he hadn't a clue.  Hunger warred with cold and he climbed to his feet, patting himself down, feeling for his weapons.  Nothing.

            'What the hell happened to my gear?' he thought.  

            "Shit!  This just – shit!" he exclaimed.  "How do I hunt without my friggin' claws?  Damn!"

            He turned to face the mountains and sniffed the inclement air, but no smell of smoke or food came to him.  With a sigh, he pushed away from the tree and began to climb higher.  Somewhere there had to be a village.

            Margarete made slow time through the scrub with the mud sucking at her boots and the wet shrubbery smacking her in the face.  For each weal she had on her face she silently offered up a curse on Yuri's life.  If she ever caught up with him, his existence would belong to her!  She swore it!  After climbing for a couple of hours she stopped to rest against a tree, surveying the surrounding countryside.  There was the far expanse of the Black Forest to the east and below the distant shimmer of the Rhein and the slow rising of smoke from cook fires just to the north.  She wondered if Yuri had headed for food.  

            'Knowing the kid, he's probably starving, as usual,' she thought.  It was when she brought the canteen to her lips for a drink that she noticed the deep gouges in the base of the tree.  Claw marks.  The kid had been here.  Fused.

            "Holy Saint Catherine," Margarete breathed.  Even with the passage of time, the gouges looked fresh.

            "He must have rested here too, then."  Forgetting her canteen for a moment, she looked up toward the ridge.  "Bad weather.  Maybe fog.  At night, he would not know that villages lay just behind him in the north and that ahead was Alsace -- and the German Army."

            Steep mountain, then valley, followed by more mountains and a valley again.  It seemed endless to Yuri, who no longer felt the hunger grinding in his stomach.  The cold was the biggest ache for him, along with the one in his heart.  He was confused, but continued his westward traveling, wondering why he was here, alone.  Where was Alice?  Where was Margarete?  The night ran to an even chillier cold before dawn began to inch its soggy way in the east behind him.  Finally, he stopped to rest, putting a tree to his back and his face toward the sun.

            'Humph, all this time and I'm heading west.  Wonder what's ahead?  And do I really give a damn?'  His thoughts were a jumble as he hunkered down, wrapping his arms around his knees, trying to control the shivers that threatened to rattle his teeth.  'If I don't find some shelter soon ...' he let his thoughts trail off as he took a deep breath and settled down for a little rest.

_Shanghai.  Den of iniquity.  One of the biggest cities in the East and home to pirates, prostitutes, pit fights and Dehuai.  Yuri's first impression of Shanghai was throwing up on the quay.  And on the boardwalk.  And again on the street in front of the Cypress Hotel. _

_"Just let me die," he muttered as Zhuzhen checked them in._

_"Not before you bathe.  I am not sleeping in the same room with your filth!" the old man said and poked Yuri in the back with his staff._

_"Screw the bath.  I wanna sleep."_

_"After the bath; and don't think I won't force you, kid," Zhuzhen made threatening motions with his staff and Yuri, rather than argue a loosing proposition, relinquished._

_"You'll feel better once you're all cleaned up, Yuri," Alice offered helpfully._

_"I doubt it," Yuri muttered.  'I hate baths.  Baths are for women.  And babies.'_

_However, having decided bathing was not worth fighting over, Yuri went at it with a vengeance, scrubbing with soap then plopping down into the hot water of the tub.  It wasn't until he stepped into the room, towel wrapped around his nether regions that he discovered his efforts in vain._

_"What about your hair?"  Zhuzhen asked. _

_"What about it?"_

_"It's full of lice!  Get back in there and scrub!"_

_"You're full o' ... Ow!"  Zhuzhen's staff made contact with Yuri's backside and, avoiding yet another swing of the deadly instrument, Yuri ducked back into the bathroom.  _

_"All right, Goddamnit!  Stop with the stupid staff!  I'll do the hair!  And where's my shirt?!?"_

_"We threw the filthy thing away.  Margarete got you a new one, but **that** one is char!  Now WASH!"_

_The others prepared for sleep to the concert of grumbles, splashes and curses emanating from the bathroom._

_The next day found Zhuzhen gone to visit a friend and Alice alone with Yuri.  Yuri, fully dressed, was sleeping like a log and Alice was wondering if she should wake him when a young Chinese girl came in asking for help.  Yuri was instantly awake.  He heard the quick explanations of the young woman, and then ran downstairs, Alice and Qiuhua, the young woman, right behind him._

_Yuri found Zhuzhen at a small bar across from the hotel.  It was little more than a dimly lit standing room bar with a small platform for live musical performances.  Zhuzhen was on the floor and hovering above him was a ruthless looking thug.  Yuri instantly disliked the black-haired fiend._

_Yuri knelt beside Zhuzhen, "Hey old man, you alive?  I thought you were off eating pot-stickers, not getting yourself half-dead.  This guy do this to you?"_

_Zhuzhen grinned.  "What's the matter, kid?  You sound like you actually care about me or something."_

_"Or something," Yuri said before rising to stare with deadly intent at the dark–haired antagonist.  "So who the hell are you and why are you beatin' up an old man?"_

_"My name is Wugui and I own this establishment --"_

_Yuri snorted.  "I know you now," he said.  "Yeah, you work for that reprobate Dehuai."_

_"Who are you?"  Wugui asked._

_Yuri shook his head as he put on his claws.  "Doesn't matter since yer gonna die right here."_

_"You're mad, Russian.  I am a Master of the Game of Death."_

_"Oh shut the fuck up!"  Yuri shouted and jumped to the attack before Wugui could posture any more.  He landed two quick blows then jumped back as Wugui suddenly struck out with lightening speed, but missed.  Yuri chuckled._

_"Not good enough, 'servant'.  Wanna try again?"_

_"You bastard!"  Wugui growled and changed his tactics, taking up a martial stance, he made a few passes with his hands then gestured at Yuri.  Yuri felt a surge of power coming at him from the little thug, but held his ground, letting the power wash over him._

_"That the best ya got, punk?  Here, just for you!"  Yuri slid in quickly and punched Wugui in the chest, the neck and the face, sending him crashing to the floor._

_"I changed my mind, jerk!  I'm gonna let you live, but you go tell your boss, Dehuai, that he better hide his girlie magazines, 'cause I'm coming for them, and him!"  Yuri picked up the beaten Wugui and, with a kick to his butt, sent the man fleeing up the stairs to the street.  "Stupid bastard."_

_Zhuzhen looked from Yuri to Qiuhua and her father Zhen.  "Thank you, Yuri.  I – I want you to meet someone, but let's do it back at the hotel, shall we?"_

_That morning Yuri met Zhen and heard the tale of his father, Ben Hyuga, and his battle against Dehuai fifteen years before.  He also heard Zhuzhen's confession of guilt. _

_"We knew that facing Dehuai in his tower could mean our deaths, but Colonel Hyuga, your father, was insistent we go.  He had reasons beyond just following orders from his Japanese superiors.  However, it was I, who was his support in this matter.  It was I who had to kill him, Yuri.  When he tried to fuse with the monster that Dehuai called up, and failed!  He made it **my** responsibility to stop him.  We knew he had a wife and a young son; we did not think they had survived.  I – I'm sorry.  I truly am."_

_Yuri remained silent for long minutes, his amber eyes boring holes into Zhuzhen.  "My mother died.  Father never returned.  I outlived them both," he said softly, a shadow passing over his countenance.  "I understand what you did, Zhuzhen.  But let me tell you this, old man –" Yuri paused for a moment, gathering his feelings under tight reign.  "If you cross me, I swear to you, I'll kill you dead," he said with a growl._

_"Yuri!  Zhuzhen didn't mean to keep things from you," Alice cried, distressed by the blinding anger she saw in his glowing eyes and the wave after wave of pure, raw emotion emanating from him._

_"I know that, Alice.  I'm just sayin' –" he paused and turning to the windows, kicked the floorboards. _

_There was continued quiet conversation behind him and Yuri heard Zhuzhen mention Wuhan, so he knew that would be their next destination.  But right now he didn't care.  He turned toward Alice._

_"Go for a walk?" he asked quietly._

_Surprised, Alice nodded._

_They left the hotel and walked through the marketplace, stopping to look at the different wares.  Neither spoke, merely walking and gesturing at odd items of interest.  Down by the quay they found a small food stand, the owner offering up quick fried items from the wok, and a delicacy.  Yuri smiled and bought a handful of Thousand-Year-Old Eggs._

_"Here, try one," he said with a lop-sided grin._

_"1000 year old eggs, Yuri?  Umm," Alice hesitated.  "Are they any good at that age?"_

_Yuri chuckled.  "Nah, you gotta try it first."_

_"All right."  Alice broke into the mottled brown egg and found that the egg wore the same pattern of brown cracks that the shell had worn.  "Oh!"_

_"Come on, Alice.  It's no stronger than my breath in the mornin'," Yuri said, and dodged a well-placed swat from Alice._

_Nevertheless, she did bite into the oddly mottled egg and, with eyes wide, quickly swallowed the whole thing._

_"See, I tol' ya!"  Yuri laughed._

_Alice nodded.  "It is good.  But why do they -?"_

_"Call 'em 1000 year old eggs?  Hell, I dunno.  I just know to eat 'em.  Here, have another."_

_The two walked companionably toward the docks, eating eggs.  _

_"Thank you, Yuri.  The eggs were good.  And I am so glad you've calmed down.  I don't want you to blame Zhuzhen," Alice said once they reached the end of the dock, their feet resting just at the edge of the wharf. _

_"No, I understand, Alice.  I do.  But I never got to know my father; an' my mother died.  All I have are memories, and not pleasant ones at that.  I have spent my life trying to find my Dad, only to discover he has been dead all these years.  I – I just feel stupid is all."_

_"No need to, Yuri.  I know you're hurting."_

_Yuri turned to look at the diminutive young woman whom he had promised to protect.  "I'm not.  I am fine.  Really," he said, but quickly turned away from Alice's piercing look._

_"Should we go back now?  Or do you want to walk some more?" he asked._

_"Whatever you want to do is fine with me, Yuri.  I just like being in your company," Alice answered._

            Midmorning found Yuri once again climbing, putting the sun to his back; he began to warm a little and hoped the rain was gone for the day.  The ground was soggy with water and fallen leaves and pine needles and more than once Yuri found himself sliding down to land hard, elbows in the mud.  By noon, he stumbled on an abandoned cabin.  It was situated near a mountain meadow.  Fencing showed where small animals, possibly goats, had resided.  Now all was empty.  Yuri kicked in the sagging door.

            "Shit, dust.  Just my luck," he muttered and then headed for the small kitchen.  He found mostly dust in the small cupboards, but he also found food.  A small can had eluded the owner's reaching hands when they abandoned the place and Yuri snatched the label-less can.  He quickly searched the drawers and came up with a small knife jammed in the back.  

            "Yes!"  A quick downward thrust and the can was punctured, sweet sticky syrup erupting onto his hands.  Yuri pulled back the can lid and drank the liquid with a sigh.  Then he pulled out the contents.

            "Peaches," he chuckled and ate them, savoring the sweetness.  "Alice's favorite."

            When finished he looked around the cabin.  Its meager furnishings were broken, and nothing remained of the bedding but a scrap of blanket.  This Yuri snatched with delight and, wrapping himself in its filthy comfort, curled up in a corner to sleep.

            Margarete followed the trail of broken shrubbery up into the mountains and through the first pass.  The trail was northwesterly and Margarete was thankful she still wore the German courier's uniform, but seriously doubted it would convince any real German soldiers she encountered.  So far, her luck held, with nothing more than blisters to annoy her, but she knew her luck would not hold forever.  Somewhere, ahead of her by two weeks at least, was that crazy Russian boy, and Margarete had no idea if she could find him in time.

            She looked down at the small satchel she still carried.  Yuri's life was in that bag; his gloves, his claws, newly obtained passport; and Alice's book.  The last book she obtained before they went up to the Float to fight Albert and God.  She was sure there were memories in the bag as well.  But how to get it to Yuri.  And, could he survive for long without weapons?  Margarete sighed and continued climbing.  

            By nightfall, she had made the pass above Mulheim but could continue no further.  Darkness and the remnants of the snowfall of two weeks ago were preventing any further travel.  She sat on an outcrop overlooking the valley below, the trees murky with smoke, a few still wearing their frosty white coats.  Fires burned in hearth and woods, soldiers were there and war.  She was torn between her duty and her desire to find and help her friend.  She drank a little from her canteen and chewed the hardtack from her pack, the while weighing her options.

            'I can continue for a little further,' she thought.  'But I will have to pull away from this before long.  I _have_ to get to Strasbourg.  If he's gotten that far, maybe I can find a clue, but if not –'

            Margarete climbed back from the outcropping and settled down in the woods, pulling out Yuri's satchel.  She had never considered going through his things, and would not under normal circumstances.  But now?  Now was not normal.  She opened the small case and pulled out the leather pouch with Yuri's Nightbird claws.  These deadly instruments Margarete had seen in action and so left them in their pouch.  Below them was a small cup, cracked and chipped but otherwise intact.  She squinted at the cup, seeing squiggles that could be writing on the surface, but as she could not read it, she put it down next to the claws.  On the bottom was Alice's book, the Holy Book of Flesh.  How often had Margarete seen the young woman open the book to pray?  Or to attack?  Obtaining the sacred book had been Alice's crowning achievement and all her friends had been proud of her.  Even Yuri, although he acted like an ass at the time.

_"What's the big deal, Alice?  It's just a book!" _

_"But Yuri, it's the most holy and sacred text," Alice said with enthusiasm._

_"Yeah, kid, just because you're an unwashed heathen doesn't mean everyone else is!"  Margarete had chided him._

_"I am not.  I took a bath – in Shanghai!  You know that!"  And at the others' laughter, "And, what's a heathen?"_

            The kid was like that.  He knew damned well what it meant, but had to play the fool to defuse the situation, whether it needed defusing or not.  Why he especially played the game with Alice, Margarete alone knew.  He loved her.  She had seen it that time in Dalian and realized her own hopes of a dalliance with the young Fusionist were lost; he had eyes only for Alice. 

            Margarete was about to put the book back when she spotted a glimmer in the bottom of the satchel.  Reaching in, she pulled out Yuri's talisman.  It was blood red and glowing sickly.  Margarete gasped.  She had seen this talisman before, worn around Yuri's muscular neck.  Moreover, she knew that Yuri needed to clear it before it got this dark.  However, she had never seen it this blood red.  Surely, that was not right!

A/N

I would like to thank those readers and reviewers who left me messages.  Blessings be upon all of you.  I would also like to thank the writers and members of Yahoo Groups Shadow Hearts.  They have had more than a little influence in getting me started on writing again.  To wit: Nights Mistress, AriesCelestial and Greyfriars to name but 3 of them.  

Reviews: Somebody : who are you? Hehe.  I am glad you are enjoying this.  Keep coming for the rest of the tale.

Aegis: Yeah, I know bikinis were not around then, but Margarete had a cute little number on in her last scene in the game; the one with the cell phone, the champagne and the KA-BOOM in the background!  Consistency I guess.

In addition, I admit this was a little AU, however I feel it's justified.  After all, no one would WANT to sleep in a room with Yuri after those first couple of days ... ewwwww!

More darkness to come in chapter 3, and it gets a bit ugly.  


	3. Dust and Memories

Rated R (sorry!) for language and violence, etc.  If you are offended by such, please do not proceed.  Otherwise, enjoy.

The Characters and Story of Shadow Hearts belongs to Sacnoth and Midway.  Again thanks to Gutterfiend for transcriptions, which I freely changed!  

_What went before:_

            Margarete was about to put the book back when she spotted a glimmer in the bottom of the satchel.  Reaching in, she pulled out Yuri's talisman.  It was blood red and glowing sickly.  Margarete gasped.  She had seen this talisman before, worn around Yuri's muscular neck.  Moreover, she knew that Yuri needed to clear it before it got this dark.  However, she had never seen it this blood red.  Surely, that was not right!

Chapter 3: Dust and Memories

_ "You should have just died for it.  I wanted you to lay down and die."  - Koudelka_

            Yuri awoke to bleak daylight.  He rose from his corner and, with the meager blanket still wrapped around him, wandered into the main room.  His breath frosted and a quick look out the only window told him volumes.

            "God damn it to hell!"  With one hand, he scraped the sad window of its icy rime.  "Shit!  Snow!"  With a sigh, he suppressed a shiver.  "Well, nothin' for it but to check outside anyway.  I need a fire.  And more food," he muttered to himself.  

            Once outside he made his way around the small cabin, following the line of its shadow in the snow laden air to the back where he found a larger shadow in the whiteness.  Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a barn.  Inside was little better than cobwebs, but he found some stacked wood for the fireplace.  

            "Assumin' I can find a way to light it," he grumbled.  "Well," he sighed, "I can always use Inferno, if I can keep from burnin' the house down around me."  

            Before taking up the wood, he continued to the back of the barn.  Dusty, moldy hay lay on the dirt floor along with some old dung pellets.  Kicking through the hay Yuri's foot hit something metal that clanged against the barn wall.  He bent down and pulled out an old rusted pitchfork, its wooden handle broken in half.  Not one to waste anything he might be able to use, Yuri took the pitchfork and then went back for fuel. 

            The trip back across the snow had him panting with fatigue, but Yuri managed to bring a large stack of wood, enough for a few hours.  This he laid in the kitchen stove, shoving out the spent ash.  The next part was tricky.  He wanted to set fire to the wood, but not the cabin.  Moreover, he wanted to be able to use Inferno to hunt for food.  The fusion soul had a strong killer instinct and Yuri knew it would hunt and kill with delight if he let it.  However, he had to maintain control, not easy when the Fusionist is half starved!

            With a deep breath, Yuri reached within.  Touching that spot in him mind where his fusion souls resided.  There was Death Emperor, his first fusion, the Symbol of Loathing.  There too was Tornado, fusion of Wind and Time who gave him wings to fly.  And Inferno, the Fiery Heart of death and violence.  When it came to fighting, Inferno was at his best.  All three of the fire souls loved the knockdown drag out fights and tended to get worked up over them.  But not this time, Yuri hoped.  Just a little he touched that fusion, letting the power and life that was Inferno's fiery heart flow into him, possess  him and give him strength and power.

            Standing well over six feet tall, the red hued, four-armed demon that was Inferno dwarfed the small cabin.  With a finger placed within the wood, Inferno started a blaze, instantly burning to char the dust on the stove and sending a wave of heat throughout the room.  With an almost negligent movement, Inferno slid the iron cap onto the stove, leaving it to heat the cabin, and then turned for the outdoors.

            Snow was not his friend, but the burning of his soul kept him warm while he trod heavily through the frozen water vapors, covering acres of ground in minutes.  About five miles down the valley, he came across a pack of wolves.  They had harried a lone deer to its knees and were making a bloody meal of the beast.  Inferno did not think they deserved such a morsel and, with a guttural growl, leapt across the intervening space, landing amidst the wolves.  First with his two left arms then his right ones, Inferno smashed the wolf pack, sending bodies scattering.  The wolf leader held his ground, snarling his defiance at the crimson giant, refusing to give up his meal.  Inferno grinned and sent a ball of flame at the wolf, turning it into a living pyre.  Satisfied, Inferno reached down, lifted the deer carcass to his shoulder, and bounded away.

            Once returned to the cabin, Inferno retreated to the recesses of Yuri's soul.  Yuri bit back a retort at his fusion.  He had watched the whole thing through Inferno's eyes, allowing Inferno as much free reign as he dared in his weakened state.

            'Sometimes I wonder 'bout these guys,' he thought, eyeing the bloody carcass Inferno had dumped without ceremony onto the kitchen floor.  The wolves had begun devouring it and the entrails were hanging from its gut, but the rest of the small buck was intact.  Yuri quickly grabbed the small knife and began cutting slivers of meat from one haunch, placing them on top of the stove and occasionally stuffing a raw gobbet in his mouth, happily chewing, the blood running down his chin. This he continued for several hours, slowly dressing the buck, placing thin pieces to cook on the stove, taking off the finished pieces and laying them aside.  The innards he took out to the snowy meadow, tossing them for the scavengers.

            Finally, stuffed and fatigued from his efforts, he wrapped himself in the shabby blanket and, settling next to the banked stove, fell into fitful sleep.  The last thoughts on his mind were of Alice.

_Walking back toward Prague, __Alice__ and Zhuzhen took the lead, walking a good ten paces ahead of __Yuri__ and __Keith__.  Yuri carried the tent, bedrolls and the bag with their few supplies and __Keith__ carried his saber.  Yuri grumbled at first, but __Keith__ reminded him he had freeloaded for a full month in the Blue Castle.  Yuri smirked, remembering that he had also beat crap out of Keith at least once in that month, and took delight in it, even if he could not remember the details.  As they walked, __Keith__ kept up a quiet litany of his family's history; __Yuri__ deigned not to listen to __Keith__'s prattle, instead watching the sway of a certain short blue skirt.  Swish, swish, went the skirt and __Yuri__'s eyes followed every delectable movement, every flounce of white ruffles, even the movement of the long white-stockinged legs.  _

_Yuri bit his lip in amusement, watching those legs.  He had never noticed before; __Alice__ was pigeon toed!   Each mincing step she took made her perky little derrière sway in a luscious fashion and __Yuri__ found himself grinning oafishly.  It earned him a scowl from __Keith__._

_"If you are not going to listen, at least have the courtesy to say so.  Furthermore, staring at a young lady's back-side is quite rude," __Keith__ said in heavy aristocratic tones._

_"Ah, just 'cause yer not gettin' any," __Yuri__ commented._

_"Neither are you, ruffian!" Disgusted, __Keith__ hurried to catch up to Zhuzhen and __Alice__._

_That night they camped out along the road.  Although it was late March, spring was yet a week away and the nighttime temperatures still dropped precipitously.  __Yuri__ gave over the tent and bedrolls to Zhuzhen and __Alice__ and joined __Keith__ in the watch.  But as the night progressed, he took to his blanket as well, snuggling down beside __Alice__ in the already cramped tent.  _

_Zhuzhen awoke shortly after dawn.  __Keith__ had kept the small cook fire banked and had heated water for their morning drink.  Zhuzhen, rubbing sleep from his ancient eyes crawled out of the tent, stretched and sniffed the chilly air.  Pulling back the tent flap, he called inside: _

_"__Alice__, time to rise."_

_Alice__ felt the cold of the morning air and snuggled closer to the warm body next to her.  The radiant heat mixed with the worn leather smell told her it was __Yuri__, and she smiled slightly until she realized that he was closer than usual.  She tried to push herself up and could not.  What?  She pushed down the blanket and found __Yuri__ had pulled her into his arms sometime in the night, mixing their two blankets together in a heap.  Additionally, he had pinned her down, and his hands were –_

_"__Yuri__!"  __Alice__ said, pushing against the sleeping fusionist.  "__Yuri__!"_

_Yuri mumbled, pulling her closer into his arms, one hand placed warmly under her short dress._

_"__Yuri__!!!  Wake up!!!"  __Alice__ shouted into __Yuri__'s ear._

_Yuri__ opened bleary eyes and looked at the beautiful bundle in his arms.  _

_"Hiya," he muttered.  _

_"Get your hands off of me!"  __Alice__ shouted, pushing against his chest._

_"My hands--?"  __Yuri__ mumbled, letting go of __Alice__ and realizing one of his hands had been where it most definitely did not belong!_

_"Ooops, sorry," he mumbled, moving back and hitting the tent, which promptly collapsed.  "Oh for chrisake!" he cursed and kicked out of blankets and tent.  "Damn stupid tent!"_

_Alice__ had also extricated herself from the collapsed tent and pulled her clothes into some kind of order.  Without a backward glance, she strode over to the fire.  All throughout breakfast, __Alice__ utterly ignored __Yuri__, while she did offer her usual buoyant spirits to __Keith__ and Zhuzhen.  Moreover, when breakfast was finished she left __Yuri__ to pack up the bedrolls and tent, simply heading out with Zhuzhen._

_Alice__ continued to refuse to speak to __Yuri__ as they made their way along the road.  Yuri, for his part, could not see anything wrong with what had happened.  But __Alice__'s back was as straight as a board, and __Yuri__ could feel each bone jar with the strength of her strides.  Finally he spoke._

_"__Alice__," he said to her back.  "__Alice__, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean --"_

_Alice did not respond, ignoring her protector's protests.  Finally, she stopped and turned to him._

_"__Yuri__, your actions – I trusted you!"_

_"I was asleep.  I told ya'!  Besides, I didn't hurt you," he said with an ingenuous smile._

_Alice__ shook her head.  "And that excuses you?"_

_Yuri__ sighed.  "__Alice__, I did not mean to put my hands inside your dress.  If I was meanin' to, I would' a put them in a more strategic place!  For chrisake!  I am a man.  I get hungry!  I get thirsty!"_

_Alice__ blinked, looking puzzled.  "And just what is that supposed to mean?"_

_Yuri__ thought for a moment then shrugged.  He took a step closer, pulled her into his arms and kissed her.  A second later his face was stinging with the slap __Alice__ gave him.  He did not move when she pulled away and stormed off, but instead mused silently, an idiotic grin slowly forming on his lips._

_'Oh yeah, feisty!' he thought.  _

            Late November, at Ypres in Belgium, a snowstorm had swept across northern Europe and brought a halt to hostilities as both sides of the conflict waited out the weather.  The combat during the battle had been confusing and unrelenting.  Survivors of the British forces were heard to say that a man was not a soldier if he had not survived the battlefield at Ypres.  Less than half of 160,000 men sent to France would come out of the encounter unscathed.  Onto this carnage at Ypres Salient came the snow, bringing a much-needed respite.

            The next week passed slowly for Yuri as the snowstorm blew across the mountains.  In that time he finished dressing the buck, cooking the venison and, with handsfull of snow, cleaned off the bloody floor.  He had used the small knife to sever the buck's four points, scraping them smooth and putting on a sharper point.  He then took strips of the deer hide and, scraping them clean, used them to wrap the horn points and create makeshift fighting claws.  By then the small knife, never very sharp to begin with, was extremely dull.  With a shrug, he put it aside and tried out the new claws.

            He pushed aside the dusty debris of the main room and sparred against invisible monsters, his motions at first jerky with weakness then, as he warmed up to the exercise, becoming more fluid.  He continued until fatigue threatened to overwhelm him and he wrapped up in the blanket again, sucking on some of the cooked venison.  As he chewed, he thought back to his years in China.  He could remember with details all that happened between him and Alice, even the crap that Zhuzhen was always pulling on him.  He remembered being swallowed alive by the Seraphic Radiance, the most powerful and nastiest of all fusion monsters.  He even remembered trekking across Europe to fight Albert Simon in Wales.  But why the hell was he here, wherever here was?  And where was Alice?  And Zhuzhen?  And that bomb-crazy spy, Margarete?  As he hunkered down for a nap, Yuri focused on trying to remember where he was and what had happened to separate them.

_While they were waiting for Margarete's return from Rouen and __Halley__'s from London, the three companions, Zhuzhen, __Alice__ and __Yuri__ wandered around the Nemeton ruins.  Old __Roger__ was busy tinkering in his laboratory, trying to fix the teleport device, which left them with time on their hands.  Zhuzhen had led the trio up to the ruins, his steady pace easy enough to keep up with, his hands clasped behind his back.  __Alice__ followed close behind the ancient Adept and __Yuri__ brought up the rear.  Finally Zhuzhen muttered something and ran off, heading up the path toward the old gravestone, leaving __Alice__ and __Yuri__ alone with their thoughts._

_"Looks like it's just us," __Alice__ said quietly. _

_"Yeah."  They walked up the path and took shelter in an alcove of the old Nemeton Monastery, out of sight of Zhuzhen but not so far as to be unaware of any trouble.  _

_Alice stood in the open alcove, her hands clasped at her waist, watching as __Yuri__ paced the empty ruin._

_"We've come a long way, haven't we __Yuri__?  Do you regret it?  Coming this far?"_

_"Regret?  No way!" the young Harmonixer exclaimed, turning to face __Alice__.  "I've gained too much to regret it, __Alice__.  You know, until I met you, I was living the life of a loser.  That damned voice was the only thing giving me purpose, and I hated it.  But you, you came and that all changed!"  __Yuri__ walked across the sandy floor and stood in front of __Alice__, and looked down into her deep blue eyes.  "You coming into my life awoke my powers; the fusion that I thought was so terrible, allows me to protect you.  You gave me direction.  I have confidence; I know I'm needed and have the power and control now to do whatever it takes."  He snorted, turning back again toward the ruins.  "Sometimes, I even think I'm happy.  Stupid, huh?"_

_Alice__ shook her head.  "No ..."_

_"I've wanted to tell you this __Alice__, since that day you came into my Graveyard and pulled my stupid ass out of there," he paused turning toward her.  "You may not understand ~ hell I don't understand sometimes!  But, this battle; I don't know how it will turn out, but, the day you die, I'll die too."_

_Alice__ stood silent, shock written plainly on her face.  "__Yuri__, no!"_

_Yuri__ kicked the sand with his booted foot and turned away, hiding a little of his embarrassment.  "I wasn't able to before.  When I was a kid.  I could not protect mom from the monsters that Dehuai sent.  Instead, my mother gave her life to protect me.  That is when my power came alive.  The blood of my father ignited in me, tearing me with emotions that I could not control. And afterward I felt such desolation when I realized I had failed my promise to my father.  I do not want to ever feel that way again, so ..."_

_Alice remained silent, her piercing gaze riveted to the back of her protector.  She remembered the stolen kiss he gave her on the road to Prague and smiled.  __Yuri__ turned back toward her._

_"You're laughing!" he said with embarrassment._

_"No, no, I was just remembering," she said with knowing eyes holding him in place._

_Yuri__, trying to hide a blush, put his hand behind his neck, and rubbed it.  "Hehe, stop that!  It's nothin' really!  I just kinda, well, you know ... like you, that's all."_

_"__Yuri__, I, -- I ..."_

_Zhuzhen's timing had always been bad.  His untimely return to the ruins prevented __Alice__ from finishing her sentence, and sent __Yuri__ running from the ruins, fuming._

            Yuri turned over in his sleep, restless dreams flitting across his inner eyes.  The fire had gone down to mere coals and he shivered, pulling the scrap of blanket closer.

            "Alice," he muttered. 

_Albert__Simon__ was dead.  God was dead.  Yuri awoke in Roger Bacon's basement, his eyes instantly searching out __Alice__.  She was there, lying next to the vending machine on the next floor up.  Stretching taut muscles, __Yuri__ yawned and, climbing over __Halley__ and __Keith__, climbed upstairs.  He knelt beside the sleeping __Alice__, watching as her breathing slowly rose and fell.  Something had happened in the Float and she had been ill, but she appeared to be resting well.  He placed an ungloved hand on her forehead; it was warm but not feverish._

_'Maybe just a little chill before?' he thought and stood up.  'I'll make tea.  She'll like that when she wakes up.'  He scanned the darkened area and shrugged.  'So where's the damned kitchen!'  With a scowl he moved away._

_Alice__ awoke some while later to the clatter of crockery.  She looked up and saw __Yuri__ putting a tea pot and cups onto the table, having brushed aside the books, charts and other papers __Roger__ had left on the surface._

_"__Yuri__, what?" __Alice__ asked softly._

_"Oh, you are awake?  I made tea," __Yuri__ said with an ingratiating smile._

_Alice__ looked at the mess __Yuri__ had made and sighed.  'I just can't get angry when he tries.  But he is so messy!' she thought as she joined __Yuri__ at the table._

_They sat and drank a cup of tea in silence as the others were still sleeping, but when finished __Yuri__ asked __Alice__ to step outside._

_"Just for a minute.  There's something I wanna say."  __Alice__ nodded her assent and they climbed the stairs and stepped outside onto the balcony.  It was pre-dawn, with a brisk breeze washing in from the ocean.  When __Alice__ shivered __Yuri__ took his coat and draped its heavy weight onto her shoulders.  They stood in silence then, watching the pale wash of pink inch its way into the sky in the east.  Finally __Yuri__ sighed and turned to __Alice__._

_"I know we've been through a lot, __Alice__.  An' I don't know ~ well ..." he sighed, shaking his head. _

_'Damn!  I just don't know how ~!'_

_He fished in a pocket of his leather trousers, pulling out a small ring, the pearl ring he'd received in Rouen.  He stared at it a moment, then reached across and took __Alice__'s hand._

_"__Alice__, will ya marry me?" He asked, placing the ring in her hand._

_Alice__ looked at the little ring, trying to keep from laughing at __Yuri__'s idea of a proposal.  But ~ that was __Yuri__._

_"Yes," she said softly, smiling._

_Yuri remained still, the quiet acceptance of his proposal not quite registering in his mind.  Then suddenly he reached down and pulled her into his arms, his coat falling to the ground._

_"Yes!" he said.  "Yes!!" he shouted.  "Yes!!!"_

_From inside __Roger__'s house voices were heard and __Halley__ soon opened the door.  _

_"What's all the shouting?" he asked, eyeing the embracing couple._

_"Shut up, short shit!" Yuri growled and, grabbing the door handle, slammed it shut.  "We're having a moment."_

            Margarete lost her footing and plunged face first into the snowdrift.  She lay for a moment, silently cursing a certain young Harmonixer, then rolled over, panting with exertion.  She had fought the snow for a week now, dropping down into valleys and climbing back up mountains, always heading north-west.  She had bypassed Mulheim, heading instead for Strasbourg, hoping against fate that Yuri was somewhere along the line.  So far there was no sign of him.  As she lay on the snow she closed her eyes for a moment, letting the snow gather in her eyelashes and caress her cheeks.  How she wished the feather soft touch was Yuri's hand. 

_Margarete had taken another look at __Yuri__ while they stood in the sewers of Fengtian. _

_'Man oh man oh ... Whew!  I would love a handful of this guy!' she thought, then shook her head.  'Get with it __Maggie__!'_

_And all through their travels, even when they had lost __Yuri__ to that monster summoned from whatever pit in hell Dehuai was now gracing, Margarete could not get __Yuri__ out of her mind.  Sure, she knew that __Alice__ had her eye on the young fusionist, and she knew also that __Yuri__ had the proverbial hots for __Alice__.  Still, Margarete was a mature woman with mature tastes; even if they **did** run to handsome young men!_

_And that day in Rouen, when she had caught up to them at the back of the church ~ there he was, in all his handsome, recklessness.  __Yuri__!  Alive and well and looking good enough to eat!  Oh she had bit her tongue that day for sure.  _

_Nearly a month later they returned to Rouen and Margarete had pulled __Yuri__ into the confessional, finally telling him things he needed to know; things he **should** know._

_"Hey kiddo ... I mean, Father.  Listen, I've got a confession.  The world is in a lot of trouble right now, and not just with __Albert__ but with those countries called the Powers.  They are pouring massive sums of money into building up military might.  War is coming very, very soon.  Because of this, at first, I thought I would just use __Yuri__ and the others.  I thought I could use their remarkable powers to benefit my own nation.  Just like the Japanese army was trying to do.  But the more I watched that crazy, reckless __Yuri__ the more I felt that was wrong._

_"__Yuri__ isn't thinking about power struggles; he's not thinking of a national interest, or of politics or money.  He just sees that girl, __Alice__, and all the enemies lined up against her and so he protects her.  And you know I'm a bit jealous.  Yes, me.  I realized that the important things in life aren't about profit and gain.  And I started thinking about searching out my own important things.  With __Yuri__.  Ya' see I really like the kiddo.  Have from the first and so I wanted to ... but well, never mind.  I guess you understand now."_

            With a shake, she sat up.

            "Damn woman, knock it off!"  She stood up and, brushing snow from her backside checked her surroundings.  "I've got to get in for the night.  And I need a warm memory to tide me over.  Damn it Yuri!  Where the hell did you go?"  The thought, the words, were a constant reminder that she had not arrived at Zurich in time.  Yuri, imprisoned during wartime, was headed for Aarau.  However, the cart had turned over; Yuri broke free, and from all evidence, was fused and possibly insane.  Moreover, Margarete kicked herself for it.  "If I'd only been in time," she breathed and began to climb the drift.

            It was well past nightfall when Margarete finally gave up.  She had covered more than half the distance to Strasbourg with no sign of Yuri.  Furthermore, there had been evidence of German troop movement and Margarete's first priority was to her duty.  With a sigh she sat beneath an evergreen; it had low hanging boughs and a scattering of needles beneath so that, gathering them up, Margarete could use them as a cushion between her and the cold hard ground.   She then drank a little water and ate some hardtack and contemplated her next move.

            'I can be in Strasbourg by late tomorrow.  I _need _to be there,' she thought.  With a sigh she curled up for sleep.

            The next morning found Margarete climbing the pass above Strasbourg.  Below, the valley was smoky and overcast and Margarete sighed deeply, knowing yet regretting her next decision.

            "Oh Yuri, where are you?" she asked with a sigh.  Looking north she scanned the horizon.  "I cannot spend the time to look for you anymore.  There's a war on and I must do my part.  Please stay safe.  Please be well.  I will look for you after the war.  Please God I will find you after the war."

            With that, Margarete began her descent.

            "Alice?" Yuri awoke, hearing sounds outside.  He rose and grabbed his antler claws and the rusty pitchfork and went to the door.  Looking outside he had to blink.  In the grey twilight, with the ground still covered in snow, he had to squint to make out the small movements outside that said something was there.  He opened the door with a snarl.  Outside were enemies!  Revenants!  He bounded into the snow, his claws to the ready, and the pitchfork in one hand.  

            "All right you bastards!" he shouted.  "Let's play!"

            There were ten of the zombies moving in the snowy meadow and Yuri picked the nearest two, quickly dispatching one with the rusted pitchfork.  The second one swung at him with crooked limbs but Yuri ducked, coming in underneath and skewering it at the crotch.  The zombie collapsed.  

            The other zombies, noticing the fight, began to approach, their movements jerky but dangerous.  Yuri shook his head, fighting the little voice that began whispering in his mind.  The voice that urged him to change.  Instead he leapt at the next pair of revenants, swiping at one, then reaching for and pulling its arm from its socket, and then plunging his antler claw deep into its chest.  Its dying breath was full of black flies and reeked of carrion.  Yuri simply took the corpse in hand and used it to batter the second creature, allowing him to get close enough to slice the revenant's throat with his claws.  A spout of ichor burst from the severed throat and Yuri, grinning evilly, shoved hard sending both bodies into the snow at his feet.

            "Ah c'mon!" he panted.  "Is this a fight?  Or a Sunday Social?"

            The remaining revenants split up, three coming at his right and three to his left.  One began making gestures that Yuri did not recognize but soon he could see the glow at the creature's fingertips.

            "Ha!  Magic!  What a load of crap!"  The voice in his head became insistent and he shrugged.  "Why not?  Just for you, assholes!"

            Yuri wore a grin as he reached into himself, grasping the fusion soul.  In a rush of magic and darkness he felt his limbs melt and merge, his body changing, his perceptions altering as his soul and the fusion melded.  A shroud of black mist momentarily covered him and then he stood revealed.  Yuri Hyuga and Death Emperor had become one.

            Death Emperor raised his large bat-like wings and flew quickly to the left, landing before three of the zombies.  He drew a deep breath, also drawing his wings close in, and then opened them, expelling the deadly breath as a Dark Messenger.  Moments later the three zombies crumpled to the ground, quivering, their bodies desiccating, their souls gone.  Death Emperor did not wait to enjoy his victory, instead turning to face the last remaining combatants.  These decided to flee.  But Death Emperor was not a forgiving fusion.  He jumped nimbly at the slowest creature, raking his claws first one way then the other, slicing the zombie into ribbons.  It collapsed, its blood speckling the white snow.  One other turned to wave its hands at the fusion, gesturing wildly, but this one too met a quick end, leaving the last one fleeing the snowy meadow.  Death Emperor spread his wings and launched himself for a short flight, intercepting the fleeing revenant.  The creature tried to change directions but Death Emperor was ready, reaching out a long, muscular arm and snagging the zombie by the neck, lifting it up, and then snapping its neck.   With a shrug, he threw the corpse into the snow and surveyed the carnage.  

            It was almost an afterthought for Yuri to release the fusion, his feet pounding across the littered snow to the cabin.  

            "Alice?" he called.  "Alice!"  

            Yuri ran to the cabin, flinging open the sagging door. 

            "Alice!" he yelled.  "Damn!  There must have been more of them.  They've got Alice!"  He grabbed a handful of the dried meat and the blanket and ran from the cabin and through the meadow, finally plunging into the forest.  Behind him, as Yuri passed beyond the meadow, he did not notice the German soldiers who lay dead and dying by his hands.

            Margarete arrived in Strasbourg after dark.  Tired, cold and hungry, she did stop for a quick meal and a bath.  She did not look at Yuri's satchel.  She did not think about its contents.  But beneath the Book of Flesh lie Yuri's talisman.  It was still glowing; deep, pulsing, blood-red and small striations had appeared on its surface, when suddenly it cracked.

A/N  Tanks to everyone who read and reviewed.  

Aegis: The masks, huh?  Well, they **were **Yuri's personal problem that he failed to fix, extensions of his personality.  Alice bought Yuri time with her taking on his karma, but I doubt it was a permanent deal.  At least, not in my mind.  

Greyfriars:  Koudelka quotes are taken from the American version of the game.  Dunno what the European/Asian versions sounded like.  They just seemed appropriate for what was happening.  Albeit I wasn't expecting as many chapters as I've ended up with!  

Celine:  Thanks and camp away!  


	4. Fade to Black

Rated  PG-13 for language, violence.  

The Characters and Story of Shadow Hearts belongs to Sacnoth and Midway.  Again thanks to Gutterfiend for transcriptions, which I freely changed!  I again stress my thanks to www.firstworldwar.com and insist that anything I put in this story is my own "messing with history".  For the truth please check the aforementioned site, it's worth many visits! And once again, Italics are "flashies" or things that happened in the past, not necessarily Canon! [You've figured this out by now anyway, right?]

_What went before:_

            Margarete arrived in Strasbourg after dark.  Tired, cold and hungry, she did stop for a quick meal and a bath.  She did not look at Yuri's satchel.  She did not think about its contents.  But beneath the Book of Flesh lie Yuri's talisman.  It had begun to glow a deep, pulsing, blood-red and small striations appeared on its surface, then suddenly it cracked.

Chapter 4:  Fade to Black

_"If anyone is to go into captivity, into captivity he will go.  If anyone is to be killed with a sword, with a sword he will be killed."   - Koudelka_

            Mid December 1914.   Life in the trenches was no life at all.  Torrential rains had turned the trenches into death traps where only the slowest movements were possible.  Men lost their boots, even their clothing to the thick, sticky goo.  In Givenchy a group of Highlanders were unable to fire their weapons because most of their rifles had clogged with mud.  They were subsequently captured.  Further north in Antwerp, the German army was bombing the city in an attempt to wrest control from the partisans.  The noise of the sound sensation, according to one nurse who lived through it, was so enormous that it seemed to belong to some transition between life and death; impossible to come through the sheer volume of the exploding shells and live.  

            In Vosges south of Strasbourg, as December progressed, a strange rumor began to circulate.  At first it was reported that a vicious beast was seen in the mountains and descending to the foothills.  Then the report changed and stated than it was actually an insurgence of western troops, probably a covert group, assigned to harass and destroy moral by attacking in the rear.  Whatever the truth, the German 4th Army sent out patrols to find and contain the interlopers.

_Jilin prefecture was the bread-basket of northern China; fertile valleys, gently rolling hills, rivers with fish - a paradise.  Over the years, Yuri's peripatetic wanderings had covered great stretches of Russian Siberia and northern China even dipping down into Hebei, but he had avoided Jilin.  Now he was back.  The weather was fine, winter was yet a few months away but the nights were chilly followed by days of incredible warmth.  Trudging up one final hill he stopped at the top and turned to look down on the valley he had just climbed out of.  Lying below were the corn and wheat fields and across the valley cattle grazed. Yuri sighed and sat beneath a lone oak at the crest of the hill.  Memories of his mother and father  trickled through his mind; the day of the festival when his father had bought the Fox Mask, that special birthday they spent fishing down at the river: they caught more than fish that day with Yuri soaked through and getting chills.  Yuri smiled slightly at the memory.  _

_'Is this where I grew up?' he thought surveying the idyllic scenery.  'I don' remember ...'_

_His ruminations were put to a sudden halt with a jabbing pain in his head.  He rolled onto the ground, clutching his head and shuddering with the agony._

_//Train ... Changchun ... girl ... go now ...// a faint voice instructed through the pain._

_"Ow, ow, damn it! Can't I have a moment of peace just once?!?" he moaned.  Sitting up he swiped at an errant tear and sighed.  _

_"Shit, Changchun.  I'll have to hurry."  _

_Yuri rose to his feet, dusting off his coat.  He would have to run the few miles into Jilin in order to catch the train to Changchun on time.  He started down the hill, heading south-west toward town, but stopped before too long and turned to look back longingly at the valley, the lone tree on the hilltop. _

_"I guess I'll never know," he said softly, then turned at a run toward Jilin and the train station._

_            *Yuri ...*_

            Yuri moaned softly in his sleep then awoke with a start.  He looked around, momentary confusion and fear in his eyes before he remembered.

            'Oh yeah, the mountainside.  I was looking for Alice.  Those bastards took her ...' 

            Standing, he stretched sore muscles, and then inspected his blanket.  He had tucked the remaining bits of dried meat into a corner, along with his make-shift claws.  He brushed away the ants and grabbed up a piece of meat, chewing it slowly while he surveyed his surroundings.  The mountainside was rock and scree, showing evidence of severe erosion.  Below lay thick old growth forest.  

            'Why would they take her, I wonder,' he thought.  'Maybe they were from Dehuai?  Nah, I killed that bastard.  Albert then?'  

            Sniffing the cold air, Yuri began his descent into the dark forest below.

            Margarete made her contact in Strasbourg, receiving word she was to proceed to Paris at once.  The Germans were still threatening Paris and she was needed.  

Malkovich Priority stop Investigate German 1st Army troop movements stop they have couriers stop Report direct end

            "Humph!  Don't they have anyone else?" she crumpled the missive and tossed it into the fireplace at her hotel room.  She dressed quickly and was tossing her few belongings into her case when she spotted Yuri's satchel.  "Shit, what do I do with this?"  She opened the satchel again and gazed at the contents.  "I guess I'll leave them here in the hotel safe.  I should be back for them later."  With a snap she closed the satchel and left her room.

            Yuri sat quietly on the ridge watching the soldiers below.  On his left was a platoon of mixed British and French soldiers trudging heavily through the forest. Yuri watched them carefully, listening to them speak; their tongue reminded him acutely of both Alice and Margarete. These soldiers were cautious but relaxed as they progressed through the forest, not expecting the Germans to have stationed themselves this far into the woods.  But the Germans had tanks and had not only penetrated deeply into the forest; they had set up bunkers with machine guns.  Yuri looked to his right and saw the trap for the British soldiers.  A group of Bifronze and Wind Shears were waiting in the bushes some small way ahead of the troops, their bloody scythes waiting to cut down the unsuspecting soldiers.  Yuri scowled.

            "It will be a slaughter," he growled.

            He adjusted his antler claws and slid from the ridge, landing with a plop onto the soft forest floor.  He quickly scanned for listeners then ran for the hidden monsters.  In minutes he engaged the creatures, their scythes slicing the air where he had been standing.  With a laugh he punched one Bifronze in the face, smashing it into pulp.  He spun, kicking out to catch a Wind Shear in the legs, sending it crashing to the forest floor where he put his heel though its neck.  In another moment he heard the breaking of twigs followed by shouts as the British soldiers caught up to him and began firing.  Other monsters arose from the bushes, firing magic at the soldiers and Yuri cursed loudly.  It was now a matter of seconds before the British forces began to fall.  Yuri frowned and reached within to grasp a fusion soul.  Waiting was Raging Bull.  Yuri's lips pulled back with grim satisfaction as the voice in his mind whispered "Change, change!"

            He fused with Raging Bull, feeling the full power of the Earth Soul joining with his own mortal soul.  Seconds later the transformation was complete and the towering, bull-horned fusion launched himself into the fray, powerful arms grasping and smashing anything within its angry reach.  Monster bodies went flying, and then Raging Bull stepped back, calling forth a flying destruction as stones and giant boulders suddenly gathered and stormed at the remaining creatures.  Behind him, the British soldiers had thrown themselves into the mud of the forest floor, some cowering, some watching in fascination as this behemoth decimated the German platoon.  And when the last one was dead, the mighty creature leapt off into the woods, bellowing a cry of anger and defiance.  

            Margarete, in a non-descript military green uniform signed out the Triumph motorcycle from the motor-pool in Strasbourg.  She stuffed her braided blond hair into a helmet and kick-started the German cycle, throttling the engine a few times before engaging the clutch and speeding away.  She took the road from Strasbourg heading west, but she needed to intersect the German 1st Army which, as far as anyone knew, was making a straight line for Paris from Ypres in Belgium after their victory at Mons.  While Margarete approached Lizy from the south-east, the 1st Army began a change of direction and she caught up to the left flank just outside the small town.

            In advance of her was the 1st Army under command of Alexander Von Kluck.  She had expected them to be heading directly for Paris at this point, and was surprised to see that was not the case.  She pulled her Triumph to the side of the road and hid behind some dilapidated trees, watching as the lead column turned decidedly south.  

            'What are they doing?  I thought they were taking Paris?' 

            She watched as several couriers left the forward column and as one approached, she prepared herself for action.  She moved over to the roadway, setting her motorcycle down as if from an accident and threw dirt on herself.  As the cyclist approached he slowed slightly and Margarete pulled her gun and fired, killing the courier instantly.  His cycle slewed then crashed into the brush along the roadway and Margarete quickly rifled through his pouch.  She found several reports; a few letters and a coded transmit for the High Command.  These she put back into the pouch securing it to her belt and, pulling the soldier into the ditch, took her own cycle and road like mad for Paris.

            Several hours later, after several near accidents on shelled out roads, she arrived at Military Headquarters in Paris and dropped off the courier documents, Margarete was next sent north to meet with the British Expeditionary Force and its commander, Sir John French, with whom she would coordinate a flanking attack against the southerly moving German 1st Army.

            Yuri had come to himself deep in the forest, his blanket and remaining food now lost.  He looked around in confusion.

            ''What did I do?  I thought I was fused to Raging Bull?  But afterwards --?"  He scratched his head and shuddered.  He was soaked through from the rain.  He looked down at his antler claws and saw the scarlet blood caked on the tips.  

            "What th' fuck was I fighting?  Bifronze don't have red blood!"  A frisson of trepidation crept up his spine.  "What is happening?"

            He began to walk, following a deer trail in the forest until he came to a stream.  He lay flat and scooped up handfuls of water to wash his face and then drank deeply.  He then looked at his reflection in the water's surface.  He saw a thin, haggard young man, long brown unkempt hair, eyes both bewildered and haunted, and from what he could tell in the wan light, lacking irises.  

            "Yer not what ya' were, Yuri," he said softly to himself.  "What the hell is happenin' to you?  And where is Alice?"  With a sigh he pushed himself to his feet and looked around.  Nothing but forest as far as the eye could see, but he knew he must be near civilization because of the soldiers.  Casting a glance skyward at the thick rain clouds he shuddered.  

            "I guess I'll keep headin' toward the sunset.  I gotta hit somethin' some time," he muttered.

_It was the night before Yuri and the group would head for the Float.  Roger Bacon, the ancient recluse and scientist living at the Nemeton Monastery in Wales assured them the teleportation device would be ready by early morning and so the group gathered in the library for one final night on Earth.  Keith, never one to sleep if he didn't need to, was deep in a book, and Zhuzhen browsed the stacks of manuscripts.  Halley was curled up in an oversized chair asleep, while Alice and Margarete spoke quietly.  Alice finished speaking to Margarete and spotted Yuri hanging in the background.  He had been wearing a strange expression all day and now looked embarrassed._

_"Yuri," the petit exorcist inquired, "what is it?"_

_"Um - well," he rubbed absently at the back of his neck, and then scratched his messy hair.  "I - well - I got this for ya."  He handed her a small box wrapped in white paper and with a pink bow._

_Alice looked surprised and pleased at the small box then pulled the bow off with a giggle.  _

_"Oh!" she exclaimed once the lid was removed.  Inside, nestled in some paper, was a pair of black lace panties.  Alice looked up in confusion._

_"Yuri, I don't understand.  You got these for **me**?" _

_Yuri made a crooked smile.  "Well, yeah.   I thought you might like these instead of yer pink ones."_

_Alice looked shocked.  "M-my pink --?  How did you know?" _

_"Oh - uh – heh," Yuri blushed furiously, quickly swallowing the smirk that threatened to materialize._

_"You've been peeking!"_

_ "Well - NO!  I didn't peek!" Yuri exclaimed looking down at his feet.  "I jus' thought 'cause you were such a virginal girl that, uhm ... you might wear pink?"_

_Alice glared at him.  "And so I would prefer black?"_

_"Uhm, well, I thought you might look nice in them is all, an' I kinda, well, I  can't help watching when you do Advent or hit an enemy;  you - you look so cute and your dress bounces up and -- well -- ummm, ~~ I'm in trouble."_

_Alice stared at the young fusionist, one delicate eyebrow raised.  For a full minute she refused to speak, and then simply walked away with the box in her hands a slight shake of her head the only indication of what she might be thinking._

_Zhuzhen shook his head, sending his pig-tail swinging.  "You're really something, Yuri."_

_"What?" he asked and at Zhuzhen's pointed look, "I'm a man!"_

_"Men think with their brains; you use your nether regions."  Yuri thought about that a moment._

_"Yes?" he said._

_But the next time Alice did Advent, Yuri was treated to the black lace panties!_

_            *Yuri, please ~* _

            Yuri started awake.  He had sat down for a breather sometime after dark and had fallen asleep.  He wasn't sure what had awakened him; he thought he had heard his name spoken, but then remembered his dream and sighed.   It had sounded for a moment like ... but no, it couldn't have been.

            'Alice ... Alice where are you?  I want you ...' he thought.

            Standing, he stretched then grunted as his empty stomach rumbled a protest.

            "Shit, and I lost my food," he sighed.  With a shrug he headed out once more in a north-westerly direction.

            After several more hours of walking, Yuri finally broke free from the forest.  A rolling plain spread before him, dotted with copses of brush or trees; and in the distance he saw white smoke from wood fires.

            "A village or farm house?  Oh thank God," 

            He started to run at a loping gate, covering as much ground as he could.  At close to midnight he was approaching the small town at a much slower pace however; his strength and endurance were just about gone and his stomach felt like it was touching his backbone.  He had one thought on his fading mind: food.

            The city was small, more like a village, with an ancient stone fence surrounding most of it and a stone arch at the entrance.  Yuri stopped at the arch, one that commemorated Napoleon, and paused for breath, each panting intake bringing him tantalizing aromas of meat and bread.  His stomach set up an incessant grumble and he salivated, his mind turning over how to get food without money.

            "Fuck it!  I'll steal it!" he growled and, pushing off from the arch, headed deeper into town.

            Yuri kept close to the buildings and deep in the shadows.  He had no idea what town he was in and, having seen the soldiers earlier, was unsure if this town might hold friend or foe.  However hunger ruled his general thinking and he followed his nose toward a large building with many windows.  He slunk stealthily beneath one window and, grasping the sill, pulled himself up to look inside; he saw a sleeping room with six cots and foot lockers at each bed; sleeping quarters for a military garrison.  Dropping down, he chose another building across the narrow street.  This one was a family dwelling, obvious when Yuri saw the children's toys lying on the floor, and the lights were dim, the family long since retired.  With a nod Yuri pulled on the window, opening the two panes outward and giving him room to climb in.  He had to kick a small toy away from his feet as he landed on the carpeted floor but otherwise his entry was silent.

            He knelt down, watching the shadows in the room for a moment before rising and crossing to the door, looking out into the foyer.  A staircase was across the way, leading to the upper floors and presumably the family; this Yuri ignored.  Instead he turned his steps to the left and the back of the house and hopefully the kitchen.  He was careful to avoid the usual furniture in the narrow confines of the hallway until he reached the nether door; this swung inward and revealed a dining room and another door beyond.  Grinding his teeth Yuri proceeded across to the next door.  This led to the kitchen. 

            "Finally," he breathed.  

            The kitchen was small but well organized, with bins for grain and flour and jars displaying fruits and preserved vegetables.  Yuri grinned.  His stomach had hit pay dirt!  In another moment he had twisted open a jar and began drinking down the contents, little caring what it was.  When he finished he opened another and then noticed another door leading out of the kitchen.  Upon inspection he found it lead to the larder.

            'Oh there IS a God!' Yuri thought as he leapt to the floor and searched the shelves.  He happened upon a ceramic pot and, reaching in, pulled out preserved meat.  This he devoured while walking around the cool dark room.  He found nothing else to tempt his hunger so when he reached the stairs again, he climbed up to the kitchen, and into the surprised gaze of a servant who promptly screamed.  Without thinking Yuri kicked out at the woman, knocking her down and causing her screams to escalate.  Shouts from upstairs followed and Yuri fled down the hall and back through the small sitting room and the open window, potted meat still in hand.

            Yuri landed in the flower bed beneath the window, rolled, and sprinted into the street, heading for the shadows of the large garrison he had seen before.  He slammed his back to the building, breathing heavily and stuffed more meat in his mouth as he thought over his next move.   Unfortunately for him the noise of the household across the street caught the attention of those residing in Yuri's shelter.  The window above his head slid open and a soldier looked out, speaking to someone behind him.  Yuri ducked down but not in time to prevent his presence being known.  The soldier shouted out an alarm and Yuri, cursing, fled back down the road toward the gate.  But Yuri's karma was not holding well this night and the watch had been alerted by the shouts.  Yuri now faced a couple of well-armed soldiers with more pounding down the road behind him.  The soldiers at the gate spotted him running down the road and shouted at him but, even though he had heard Margarete speak similar sounding words to Keith during their travels, Yuri did not understand their tongue.  He was forced to fight his way through.

            By now, however, the soldiers of the garrison were also within shooting distance and several paused in their approach to fire their rifles at the combatants, little caring who got shot.  In frustration Yuri threw the meat pot at the soldiers and ran through the gate, the soldiers in hot pursuit.  It never occurred to him that it wasn't his theft that kept the soldiers pursuing him down the road, but rather the description of a mad-man that turned into a demon that had been reported from the survivors of his earlier confrontation with the German army.  This had to be the man or creature that had harried the troops and caused the 4th Army to send out patrols in pursuit.  It was just Yuri's bad luck he was in the midst of German occupied Lorraine.

            Yuri fled Neufchâteau, his feet flying as fast as he could over the muddy roadway.  Pounding behind him were the soldiers, their tenacity standing them in good stead against the fatigued fugitive.  Yuri got five miles down the road when he met troops marching from the other direction.  Startled he stood panting a moment, allowing the two groups of soldiers to catch up to him.  He cursed, shaking his fist at one group and turning to head off-road and into the rolling hills but both patrols began firing sending bullets skittering along the ground, pinging off trees and rocks and eventually thudding into Yuri's back.

            Yuri fell, his face meeting the mud.  The soldiers now flanked him, their guns at the ready, torches lighting the area and showing the tattered remains of a man lying on the ground.  Yuri struggled to his knees, hearing several rifles clicking into readiness behind him.  Wounded, facing the muddy ground with his teeth clenched, Yuri could only feel.  He no longer could think, only the emotions of anger and fear clenching his pounding heart.  He could hear a voice screaming at him to change; to punish these damned soldiers.  He heard the voice and felt the pain and grasped the fusion.

            "You will all die," he groaned as the fusion took him.  He felt his body and mind rupture like a blood vessel, his soul and that of the fusion monster becoming one but the fusion was dominating.  He did not have the strength to control the fusion monster and the unfathomable darkness that was Amon pushed him down into dreams and darkness.  

            Amon rose from the muddy ground, his dark scaly skin like armor and his eyes a fiery red that sent shivers down the spines of the nearby soldiers.  A growl like grinding boulders issued from his black lips and then he pounced, his razor sharp claws rending the nearby soldiers to shreds.  Before another heartbeat he summoned his dark magicks, blasting the remaining patrols into scattered dust.  Then with leather wings spread he leapt into the chill rainy sky and flew north.

            Within the hour Amon landed in a small village along the Meuse, the quiet broken only by the patter of rain drops on the cobbles and ... singing?  Curious, the fusion monster flew closer, finding a church with stained glass windows lit with candles.  Inside voices were raised in song and the fusion listened a moment before turning darkened eyes to the deeper shadows of the basilica.  A wrought iron gate tantalized the dark Lord of All Soul Spirits and he approached.  Beyond the gate were stone steps leading down into darkness.  In a moment Amon had torn the gate from its hinges and descended into the dark catacombs just as the bells of Christmas chimed in the basilica above.

            _*Yuri, no ...*_

            Margarete returned to Paris in early January.  She had returned from the front with a smile on her face. The combined British and French forces succeeded in commanding heavy loses for the German 1st Army, and there had been an unofficial truce in force between the opposing armies for the Christmas holidays.  The officers and higher ups were not happy but the smiling faces of Tommy and Fritz as they exchanged cigars, whisky, cigarettes and chocolates was a thing to warm the cockles of the heart.  Granted both sides knew the other was also checking out fortifications and weapons emplacements, but it was the thought that counted.

            Checking in with headquarters she received yet another assignment.

            "Escort duty!  What is THAT all about?" She quickly read the accompanying report and frowned.  "The Germans have sure been busy with this one.  I wonder though ..." she paused and perused her orders again.  "But all that way to escort a priest?  What _were_ they thinking?" Margarete sighed.  "Oh well."

            That afternoon found her speeding south toward Marseilles to take ship to Italy.

AN: Thanks go to those who have stuck through this thing this long.  What started out as three chapters has grown. Luckily we're almost done.

Aegis:  I'm glad you liked the proposal; Yuri insisted!  Pigeon toed, or "knock kneed" is when knees come together when walking; or when toes point at each other when walking or standing.  Alice is definitely in that class.  It's a fancy for Japanese males who like that kind of thing.  I pity Alice's back pain later in life!! (Ooops! That's assuming she lived! J)

necro leelsy person(): Yes, Miss Ma'am did want Yuri; clear back in the sewers of Fengtian.  Just because she lost him to Alice doesn't mean she still doesn't want him.  But wanting and having isn't the same thing.

Next time:  Will Yuri come out with a whole skin?  We'll have the answer in "Redemption."  


	5. Redemption

Rated "R" for Language and Violence, etc.  If thee be offended, return from whence thee came.  If not, then enjoy!

The Characters and Story of Shadow Hearts belongs to Sacnoth and Midway. Gutterfiend would not recognize her transcription so don't mention it!  Please note: My German is non-existent; my Italian is passable as is my French.  If I messed up: SORRY!

_What went before:_

            Within the hour, Amon landed in a small village, the quiet broken only by the patter of rain drops on the cobbles and ... singing?  Curious, the fusion flew closer, finding a church with stained glass windows lit with candles.  Inside voices were raised in song and the fusion listened a moment before turning darkened eyes to the deeper shadows of the basilica.  A wrought iron gate tantalized the Lord of All Soul Spirits and he approached.  Beyond the gate were stone steps leading down into darkness.  In a moment, Amon had torn the gate from its hinges and descended into the dark catacombs just as the bells of Christmas chimed in the basilica above.

Chapter 5:  Redemption

_"The spectral energy is coming together.  It's a – a monster" – Koudelka_

            The dark of the catacombs was a gentle caress for the mind of the fusion.  Amon had taken up residence in the underground chambers on Christmas day, and had turned the whispering darkness into his own personal corner of Hell.  The Chapel of Saint Catherine was above him but he ruled below.   For the last two months, Amon had kept the light at bay, visiting the Chapel and directing his disgust at the residents of this little village on the Meuse.  Their prayers incensed him.  Their screams were music to his ears.  Their terror delighted him.  And after each successful lesson in terror, Amon would retreat to the comfort of the dark recesses where the whispers of the dead were solace and company.  And the continued torture of the one who imprisoned him was his pleasure.  For the fusionist was yet a matter to deal with. 

            Yuri was in the Graveyard, leaning wearily against the grave of Darkness.  He had leaned against the marker for so long that its stony coldness had left imprints on his face and bare chest.  Slowly he slid down the rough stone coming to rest on the faded grass of the marker, his cheek resting against the rune of the gravestone.  His breathing was shallow and his mind numb.  After a while, he fell back onto the grass, his arm and legs spread out, his iris-less eyes unfocused.  The weary gray of the graveyard sky, the foggy atmosphere mirrored his inner despair and the voices that usually cried out in fear and horror echoed hollowly in his ears.  The only voice he heard was Amon's. 

            The fusion monster whispered in his mind, telling tales of terror and despair that Yuri could not escape, indeed did not want to escape.  The tales were a punishment for his blindness, his stupidity – his failure.

            "Alice," like a breath he said her name, the sound a ghostly whip to his soul. "Alice."

_Yuri__ stood beside the small stream next to the railroad tracks.  He had deposited the girl on the ground at his feet and he was waiting patiently for her to awaken.  When she finally did, he turned to her with a wolfish grin._

_"Heh heh, pretty exciting, wasn't it?  You getting all tingly ... all tingly ... all tingly ..." he voice was echoing in the darkness and he reached down to touch her body, his hands grasping her flesh in taloned claws.  "Tough luck!  If anyone's going to eat you it's me!"_

_Yuri__ moaned as the memory seemed to warp and twist and turn in on itself.  'It didn't happen that way, did it?  No – nooo.'_

            "Of course it did.  And you ate her, fusionist!  You ate her body and soul, devouring your love with teeth and claw," a deep voice resounded in derisive laughter.

_Alice__ was a prisoner in Kuihai Tower.  Strapped into a machine that siphoned off her life force, __Alice__ silently prayed for rescue while Dehuai, an aged, crippled warlock taunted her.  _

_"What do you think of my Spirit Machine, little __Alice__?  Is it not impressive?"_

_"Whatever you think you are doing to me, I will not cooperate with you, Dehuai," __Alice__ stated a slight tremor in her voice._

_Dehuai chuckled, a nasty sound deep in his throat.  _

_"We'll see how long that sassy little attitude lasts.  Or do you really believe that brat will come to save you?  That thrice damned, filthy Harmonixer!" Dehuai growled and turned away to a control panel.  "Bear witness, lowly maggots!  I shall soon show you the face of God!"_

_Yuri__ stood below them craning his neck to see onto the platform.  _

_"__Alice__!" he called and sprinted up the stairs to confront Dehuai._

_"Detestable Harmonixer boy!  Hyuga's bastard son!  This tower will be your grave!" Dehuai cursed at them._

_Dehuai turned toward his machine and __Alice__ screamed in pain as energies arced around her.   __Yuri__ climbed to the top of the stairs but Dehuai stepped in front blocking him._

_"You are too late.  The Mandala of Hell is opening; the Seraphic Radiance will be summoned and you can do nothing!"_

_"Fuck off old man!" __Yuri__ shouted._

_Yuri leapt at the ancient Earth Sage, knocking her down; he made a quick thrust with his claws, raking them across her face, piercing skin, slicing bone, then kicked her in the head sending her blonde hair cascading onto the floor, and blood spattering her delicate complexion._

            "Alice?  No -- This isn't right!?!"

            "Of course it is!  You destroyed her with your brute strength," the resonant voice echoed in his mind, turning his memories into jumbles of pain and confusion. 

            Yuri struggled to roll over and curl into a ball, pulling himself into a protective circle in his mind.  

            'Go away!' he pulled a coherent thought together.

            The voice laughed and the echo of it rolled in his mind, mixing with the screams and cries of terror that filled the Graveyard, and Amon, his great wings open like a boastful statement, turned back to the Gate and walked into the world.  

            Yuri, curled next to the Grave of Darkness, did not hear him go, but did hear the soft pad of footsteps on the gravel approaching him from another direction.

            "Heh-Heh, still a weakling, I see," the soft voice said and then there was the scrape of cloth against stone at the speaker sat on the stone verge next to the grave.  "You can stay that way if you wish.  I have time."

            Yuri ignored the voice, hearing only the pain in his mind clawing its way to the surface.  But the continued soft breathing was like a razor slicing through his consciousness.  Finally, he relaxed from his fetal curl and looked up.  The figure resolved into a familiarity in a green Japanese army coat.

            "Damn; Fox Face.  I thought I killed you."

            The man in the Fox mask laughed, shrugging his shoulders and indicating their surroundings.

            "We _are_ in a graveyard after all.  Is this not where the dead reside?"

            "Ohhh," Yuri moaned.  "Go away."

            "Why?  So you can wallow in stupidity and madness?"

            "Fuck off," Yuri said with a sigh.

            Fox Face chuckled softly and rose to his feet.  "Very well.  I'll be around when you need me."  He turned and walked down the path towards the lit gate.

            "Wait," Yuri said and slowly pushed himself up to sit against the gravestone.  "Why am I here?"

            Fox Face stopped, his back to Yuri, and shrugged.  "You lost.  It's that simple."

            Yuri sighed.  "What does that mean?  C'mon I'm too tired for this shit!"

            Fox Face returned to the verge and sat down next to Yuri.  

            "What is the last thing you remember?"

            Yuri frowned.  "I – I'm not sure.  I think we were on a train."

            "We?"

            "Alice and me.  We were heading to Zurich to meet her mom."

            "And afterwards?"

            Yuri thought hard, his mind hurting with the recent onslaught of twisted memories and his brain unable to process the difference.  "She died?"

            "Yes, she died.  Because of you.  And that stupid bargain she made.  She sold her soul to open the Gates that was all.  She gave over herself to get access to you.  But your life; your soul was still in the pot.  It was up to you to save both your lives; and you fucked up!"

            Yuri scowled at Fox Face, running the words over in his mind. 

            "But I don't know what I should have done.  I couldn't stop the Masks.  Anyway, why am I here, now?  Am I dead too?"

            Fox Face chuckled again, shaking his masked head.  "You soon will be.  Your fusion holds your life; and your soul - because you're an idiot.  And more than just a little insane."  He rose again, dusting off his coat and walked back down the path towards the far gate.  

            "It's all over but for the final chorus, boy.  Do you believe in God?"

            "Of course I do; I killed the sonofabitch," Yuri growled feebly.

            Fox Face laughed as he passed beyond the Gate of Self and into the red sunset beyond.

            Yuri remained leaning against the gravestone for a few minutes before slowly sliding down to the cold hard ground, one arm flung over his head.  

            'What the fuck was that all about?' he wondered as he watched the foggy grayness of the Graveyard float around him in a miasma of misery.  

_"You may not comprehend this place, but your heart understands it full well," intoned the Gold Mask.  __Yuri__ stood before the Four Masks, the prod of his conscience, and cursed them silently.  "This world is a reflection of you; your own mind's darkness."_

_"Yer fulla shit," __Yuri__ spat at the Mask, but inside he trembled with the truth gnawing at his guts.  He had built this place with every tear he had shed.  He had carved each stone and lintel with each breath and cry of pain.  He looked around at the bleak atmosphere and breathed in his own despair.  'Yup, I made this place.  I guess it's fine if I die here too.'_

_"She's nearly gone, all the life sucked out of her," Zhuzhen said.  "Damn it __Yuri__, do something!" the old man knelt by the petit blonde woman's side, taking her limp hand in his, checking her pulse._

_"What?"_

_"I- I'm all right," __Alice__ said faintly, her voice barely above a whisper.  "We must stop the Invocation before all is lost ..."_

_"Sure," __Yuri__ said.  "But you gotta marry me first, okay?"_

_Halley, his hat askew from the earlier fight, turned to look at __Yuri__._

_"What is it with you?  Can't you do anything without thinking in your pants?"_

_Yuri__ turned to the child at his side._

_"Who asked you, half-pint?"_

_Keith__Valentine__ stood at the top of the staircase.  He raised his sword, pointing at the closing door above him.  "Dehuai is getting away."_

_And next to him, __Albert__Simon__ looked down on __Yuri__ with a smirk._

_"He has every appearance of a human, but he's a maleficent monster fit only for killing."_

_"Shut up you!" __Yuri__ shouted._

            Yuri realized he had moved.  He was sitting up against the gravestone of Darkness, a chain looped around his neck and chest kept him bound to the stone; his right arm was extended, bound by heavy fetters to the small white grave next to him. 

            "Your fates were bound, boy."

            "Oh shut up, Fox Face!" Yuri said with a growl. 

            "Fox Face?"   The voice behind him laughed softly.  "That's a first.   Are you calling me after that silly mask you wear?"

            Puzzled, Yuri craned his neck, pulling against the chain to see who stood behind him. 

            "F-father?  -- But how?"

            The older man smiled and stepped down to the verge, taking the place that earlier had been occupied by Yuri's nemesis.

            "I've always been here, son; since the beginning.  I've watched you fight your demons.  And I watched you fail."  Ben Hyuga tilted his head to the side and watched his son from lowered eyes.  "Why is that, Yuri?  Did I not teach you enough to win?"

            "I dunno, Dad.  I don't remember so good –"

            "Yes, I suppose you were young."

            Yuri strained against the chain but was unable to loosen the bonds.  

            "You'll be here like that for a long time, son.  _He _will make sure of it."

            "He?"

            "Amon, Master of Destruction.  Even now he runs amok in the world, bringing pain and suffering to innocents.  While you ... your pain is not over yet, I'm afraid."

            "W-what do you mean, Dad?"

            The elder Hyuga shrugged.  "He is intent on revenge; something he held in common with the magus Simon.  And you ... were too weak when you fused; weak and insane."  Ben sighed.  "I cannot give you answers, son.  I guarded you while I could; but now ..." he stood and made to leave once more.

            "Dad!  Wait!"

            Ben Hyuga walked silently down the path past the mausoleum and the laughing masks.  

            "What you seek is there, Yuri. You have to find it," he said and passed through the gate.

_Yuri rose from the floor, the pain receding as the voice and its power faded.  He slowly stood, shaking his head, wiping blood from his nose; it seemed the more fusion souls he had the more the voice hurt him._

_"It's been a while since I've heard that damn voice!" he grumbled.  _

_"She's watching over us," __Alice__ said.  "Did I tell you I heard you at the graves?" she asked._

_"Huh?"_

_"You were so brave in adversity; but you also were filled with repentance.  Do you still feel that way, __Yuri__?"_

_"What the fuck are you talking about, __Alice__?  We've got to stop Dehuai?"_

_Yuri looked at the little exorcist who, instead of her usual short blue ensemble, was dressed in radiant white._

_"You already did," she said._

_Yuri__ hesitated, his mind working on what __Alice__ was saying._

_"Oh.  So that means ... that means it's time for me to die, right?  Like Dad?" he asked._

_"You already did," she answered._

_"Oh."  __Yuri__ looked around the strange house that sat along the western Welsh shore.  The wind was blowing in from the ocean, bringing with it the tang of salt and the cries of sea gulls._

_"And I brought you back," __Alice__ finished._

_Yuri__ smiled.  "Then we must be getting married, right?  You said 'yes'."_

_Alice__ smiled.  "And so I did."_

_"Then shall we?"_

_Yuri__ took her arm and lead __Alice__ down the aisle; their friends waiting in the seats of the small chapel.  Alice was dressed in a beautiful white gown, short skirted of course! And a veil of delicate lace was held in place by a small tiara.  She looked exquisite to __Yuri__'s eyes and he could hardly contain himself as the pastor read out the old words of the wedding, binding them forever.  And as Roger Bacon intoned the words, "You may kiss the bride," Yuri raised the veil and bent down to kiss his lovely bride, her rotting, decaying lips pulled back in a rictus of death, the stench of the grave a delicate perfume from her desiccated bosom and the maggots of her teeth crawled into Yuri's mouth as his mouth covered hers and his tongue explored the rank sweetness of death that was her mouth._

_Behind them __Roger__Bacon__ laughed and smiled and announced to the assemblage: "Ladies and Gentlemen, I present __Yuri__ and __Alice__Hyuga__, husband and corpse."_

_Their friends cheered, and the echo of their happy voices crashed into __Yuri__'s ears, bringing him back._

            Yuri slumped against the gravestone, pain and revulsion warring in his mind for dominance.  A movement caught his feeble attention and he watched Amon stride toward the mausoleum, the cackling of the four masks a backdrop to Yuri's anguish.

            Margarete returned to France in early February.  She was met with the problem of getting two very suspicious people through German occupied territory without being shot.  Ever innovative, she obtained an old lorry and some beaten up farm equipment from Aix-en-Provence just out of Marseille.  The equipment she put in the back of the truck and then, with both herself and the young priest in farmer's attire, began the long drive north.

            "Let's go, Padre," Margarete said with a smile.  

            The young man shook his head.  "You know Maggie, I am NOT a priest, I'm a Gregorian monk, trained in spiritual combat. I do wish you would stop that."  His words were mitigated by the infectious smile he wore.

            Margarete laughed.  "Oh ho!  I know.  But you have to admit when French Intelligence makes a mistake, they make a doozy."  Margarete was referring to her orders from Headquarters.  "Respond to Rome; return with priest skilled in White Magicks."  

            "What they should have said was 'charlatan', that would have been closer, Nikki."

            Nicholas looked across at the blond spy, his mouth pulled into a smirk.  "You know, if I hadn't been listening to that garbage all the way from Rome, I would think you were serious.  How ever did your friends put up with you all the way from China?"

            "Ah, ah-hah!  I loved teasing Yuri.  He was such a patsy," she sighed, remembering that same Yuri was missing.  "I hope you can meet him someday.  He's a real heart-breaker."

            Nikki looked askance at Margarete as she quickly maneuvered the lorry down the muddy road. 

            "Rompe il vostro cuore??" [1]

            Margarete shook her head.  "Mind your own business, _exorcist_!"

            "Ah, well at least you got the job description right this time," Nikki said softly. 

            They continued their cross country drive north through Grenoble, where they stopped for supplies and news of the war.  

            "Oui, it has been terrible," the old store owner muttered.  "The Hun he attack the hospital ship, you know the one?  The Asturias?  Sunk it down in God's blue ocean.  Killed everyone – doctors, nurses, everyone!"

            Margarete gritted her teeth at this news and wishing she had been around to do something, _any_thing to prevent it ... not that she could!  

            "And just this week the German army has attacked and taken Marie Therese in Argonne; and I think Ban-de-Sapt as well."

            "Then that means they are moving again.  Forcing the trench line further west?"

            "Mai oui, unfortunately.  You must be careful, ne's pas – you and your husband?"

            Margarete actually blushed beneath the grime on her face.   "Uhm – yes, we must.  Merci, monsieur."

            Leaving the little shop, Margarete resumed driving, sending the antique truck careening up the road at a mad pace.

            "Shouldn't we maybe slow down?" Nicholas asked, holding on to the door for dear life.

            "No time.  We've got to get through to Lorraine and up another hundred miles before nightfall."

            "Perchè?" [2]

            Margarete sighed.  "There's something I need to do; and with the German's mobilizing, pushing the western front that much further, we now have added danger getting your exorcist ass, handsome as it may be, up to Neufchâteau."

            Nicholas didn't respond but his mouth quirked a smile.  He had yet to understand Margarete, his lovely if brash escort.  She had met him in Rome, showing up at the shop in which he was employed and whisked him off to France.  He knew she had been coming; or at least that someone would be arriving from France sometime that week; the Vatican had sent notification along with his travel papers.  It did not ease his mind to realize he was being taken to France, to the Basilica of Saint Catherine, to exorcise a demon.  

            By the time they reached Besançon they were tired and disgusted with the conditions of the muddy, packed roads.

            "I wish we could have entered from Italy," Nikki said with a sigh.  "It might have been easier."

            "Oh yeah, sure," grumbled Margarete.  "Climb the bloody Italian Alps, somehow get through the German artillery bunkers set along the line; yeah, really good idea, _priest_." 

            Nicholas sighed.  "Well, I never said I was a strategist.  That's what you're here for, yes?" the blond man turned a quirky grin on the frustrated spy driving the truck.  "By the way, have I told you how lovely you look in dung brown?"

            Margarete turned sharp eyes onto the exorcist, his own 'dung brown' attire just as repulsive as her own.  "You –" She laughed then, realizing his intent.  "Funny.  Remind me to write the Pope with a letter of recommendation when this is all over."

            Nikki's eyebrows rose into his bangs.  "Realmente? Fareste quello? Come genere!?"  [3]

            Margarete scowled at the young man a moment before she realized he was serious.  She shook her head and drove on, part of her mind on the road ahead, the mission at hand and another part remembering another white mage whose death she had not reconciled: Alice Elliot.  

            "Nikki ..." she hesitated before plunging ahead, "Nikki I have to stop in Strasbourg.  There's something I left there that might help.  I dunno.  I had a feeling when I read the report is all."

            "Significate??"  

            Margarete shrugged as she maneuvered the old truck past a disabled horse cart left abandoned along the road.  

            "I don't know.  Maybe nothing.  But I have to stop and again I remind you, Nikki, speak German or French, not Italian!"

            Nikki blushed, a becoming color with his pale blonde complexion.  "Scusi." 

            At Epinal they pulled over, Nikki taking the wheel of the truck.  

            "You go on ahead and I'll catch up with you.  And Nikki ... be careful."

            The young exorcist smiled.  "I will."  He engaged the clutch on the old lorry and pulled ahead leaving Margarete on the road to Strasbourg while he continued toward Neufchâteau and Domrémy just beyond.

_Yuri__ was digging his own grave; he knew it but didn't see any point of concern.  With each swing of the old hoe he dug a little deeper, a little wider.  Soon the grave would be deep enough for him to lie down in.  Concentrating on his digging he did not hear the soft voice whisper behind him._

_"__Yuri__?  What are you doing?"_

_It was his mom's voice._

_"I'm helping dad, you know that.  I'm a good boy; I help any way I can."_

_His mother, a tall willowy figure in green dress and white blouse stepped closer, a restraining hand stopping his digging._

_"Is this how you were taught to dig a garden?" she asked.  Then a slight frown creased her brow.  "And did you finish your lessons first?  I want you to be educated, even if we do live in the middle of nowhere."_

_"Ah mom," __Yuri__ said with a sigh, stopping long enough to wipe sweat from his brow.  "I'll study later.  I gotta help dad."_

_"I am glad you do.   Just remember __Yuri__: the seeds you plant today you will harvest in the hereafter."_

_Yuri__ turned puzzled eyes onto the diminutive woman.  "Huh?"_

_Alice__ shook her head.  "Will you stop – please?" she finally shouted._

_"Heh-heh, __Alice__?  I didn't see you there."_

_Alice__ sighed.  "Will you stop this nonsense?  You're not helping your father; you're digging a grave.  And it's not necessary.  You're not dead."_

_"Oh, but he will be," a deeper voice said from behind the tree and __Alice__ looked up to see a stranger emerge.  As tall as Yuri the figure wore an old green Japanese army coat but the face was a mask: a disfigured, malformed mask with a nasty slit of a mouth and eyes in the wrong place, one open the other a mere slit._

_Alice__ shuddered looking at the foul mask.  "Who are you?  And what do you want?"_

_"You may call me Atman," the masked figure said.  "And I already have what I want,"_

_ "Dad," __Yuri__ said oblivious to the exchange, "is this deep enough?"_

_"We've had this conversation before," __Alice__ said with confusion in her blue eyes._

_ "No, you only think you have," Atman replied.  Then turning to __Yuri__ he said, "Dig deeper, stupid!"_

_Yuri__ nodded and began digging again._

_"Stop!  __Yuri__!" __Alice__ shouted, and __Yuri__ stopped digging once more and turned toward her._

_"Yes?" he asked, puzzled.  "What do you want?"_

_"I want your heart's blood, fool," __Alice__ said softly and grabbing the hoe from __Yuri__, struck him across the face, sending him crashing into the dirt._

_"No!" he groaned as blood spurted from the vicious gash in his cheek.  "No --" he stood and snatched the hoe from __Alice__.  "Alice, please, I'm sorry --!"_

            Yuri moaned in protest as a sharp pain pierced his chest.  Blurry eyes tried to focus on the dark figure looming over him but came to rest on the glowing red eye mere inches from his own.  Yuri tried to pull back only to come up against the gravestone and he realized he was still in the Graveyard.  A deep chuckle rumbled from beneath the eye and then Amon came into focus, his tongue licking red blood from his dark lips.

            "Your soul's blood, Harmonixer - better than elixir!"  

            Yuri looked down to see the deep gouge where Amon's claws had punctured him, scoring along his flesh and pulling blood vessels to the surface and slicing through; each beat of his heart sent a pulse of blood coursing down his scared chest.

            Yuri moaned, trying to twist away from the fusion monster, but Amon reached out, his gigantic hand grasping Yuri's face, his talons piercing the skin like razors.

            "Resist, little harmonixer; fight me!  It will only prolong your delicious suffering," Amon growled, but when Yuri did nothing, Amon thrust Yuri's head back against the gravestone and lumbered away.

            Yuri leaned against the chains yet binding him to the Darkness gravestone, feeling the bite of the links on his flesh. 

            'He's playin' with me,' he thought.  'But why?  I'm already condemned to Hell.  Or is _this_ my Hell?"

_He can't bear the dark fate of a Harmonixer," Fox Face said, kicking dirt at __Yuri__._

_Alice__ ran up the slope to intervene between the masked man and __Yuri__.  "Stop it!  Please!"_

_Fox Face snarled, offering a fist to __Alice__.  "Do you want some of this too?  I hate that whiney crap!"_

_"Yuri please," the young exorcist begged, turning deep blue eyes onto her friend.  "It doesn't have to be like this.  Don't grieve!"  Alice reached out and tugged hard on Yuri's shoulder, trying to pull him back from the hole he was digging._

_Yuri__ paused in his grave digging; he wiped sweat from his brow and glanced up at Fox Face.  He frowned._

_"But I deserve this," __Yuri__ said.  "I'm a loser.  Always have been; now is no different."_

_Alice__ watched as he went back to digging.  "I don't blame you, __Yuri__.  I love  you."_

            The gray of the Graveyard weighed on him like stone.  Yuri, pulling against the chains, could not get free.  The echoing screeches of despair and pain that were the constant background chorus were like the wailing of a banshee.  Yuri sighed. 

            "I know yer there.  Come out, why don't ya?" he said softly.

             Fox Face approached from the mausoleum, stopping at the grassy verge by Yuri's stone.  Yuri looked up at the masked face and could swear he was smiling.

            "Share the joke?" he asked wearily.

            "The joke will be on us if you do not succeed."

            Yuri attempted a half-hearted scowl.  "Cryptic as always.  Can't ya just say what you mean?"

            Fox Face sat on the verge, turning toward Yuri.  He reached up and gently wiped blood from Yuri's face.  

            "Your time is almost done.  He has sucked what he can from you; if you cannot defeat him now ..." he paused significantly.

            Yuri snorted.   "You assume I care."

            Fox Face shook his head.  He reached up and removed the mask, revealing Yuri's own face.

            "If not you, then whom?  Do you expect those humans to do it alone?"

            Yuri sighed and looked up at Fox Face/Yuri.  "What do you mean?"

            Fox Face/Yuri shook his head.  "God but you're dense sometimes."  He stood and, taking up the fox mask, crushed it with his hands, letting the pieces rain down onto the verge.

            "Alice is gone; but the world goes on.  You can wallow in self-loathing or self-pity if it suits you.  But people will die.  And go on dieing because you were too self-involved to give a damn!  Open your eyes, damn it!"

            Yuri didn't know what to say.  He watched as Fox Face slowly walked toward the opposite hill where the stones for Light and Wind rested.  The runes in each were glowing; he hadn't noticed that before, so he craned his neck, pulling away from the Darkness gravestone; it too glowed.

            "So what is this all about?"

            Fox Face/Yuri shrugged.  "He's coming.  Remember what I said. It's your choice. But make one.  Live, die, repent, I don't care; just make a goddamned choice!"  He stepped up onto the opposite verge and stood next to the gravestones.  He placed his hand on the Light grave marker and began to fade, becoming translucent then vanished.

            "Oh, right.  Pull a disappearing act on me," Yuri grumbled.  But when he noticed the disturbance at the Main gate he felt fear grip his guts, his heart beating heavily in his chest.  "Oh shit."

            Amon stepped through from the World, his black scaled armor gleaming in the gray light of the Graveyard.  His armor was stained crimson and Yuri shuddered, knowing that someone or something had died not long ago at Amon's hands.  He watched in trepidation as the giant fusion monster stepped up onto the grass beside him and squatted down.  Face to face with the fusion, Yuri felt very small.

            With one hand Amon sliced through the chains binding Yuri to the grave makers, while his other hand picked him up by the neck, pulling Yuri up to his face, breathing fetid breath on the weak fusionist.  Then, with a wicked laugh, he began to pull Yuri into his body; inch by agonizing inch the harmonixer was encompassed by the fusion and Yuri began to scream, fear and agony ripping out of him in gut-wrenching shrieks and a cry for help!

            Nikki pulled the ancient lorry into the alley behind the hotel.  He had arrived well after midnight and expected to only get a few hours of needed sleep before tackling the demon problem.  He left the lorry and checked into the hotel and ordering a hot bath.  Whatever he might think of Margarete's idea of transportation, she had managed to get him to Domrémy safely.  Now if she would get back from Strasbourg he would feel much better about this.  

            A knocking at his door woke him before sunrise.  The innkeeper was speaking so quickly that Nikki had difficulty following what he said.  But he nodded and waived the man off as he pulled on his clothes; the clean white clothes he wore while working for the Vatican.  Once downstairs he saw what was happening.  Several locals had gathered in the inn common room, the children tearful and the men angry.

            "What has happened?" he asked the innkeeper once he located the elder man amongst the crowd.

            "A demon, monsieur prêtre; attacked and killed soldiers in the chapel.  These found the remains this very hour.  If there is anything you can do?" the man looked at Nikki expectantly.

            Nicholas nodded.  "I was going there this morning.  I will leave now, if someone will show me the way?"

            "Oui, monsieur.  Immédiatement."  The innkeeper rushed away only to return a moment later with a young man.  "Michele will take you, monsieur."

            Nicholas nodded to the boy and they left the inn.  Outside was still dark, dawn yet half an hour off, and stars still shown in the night sky.  The rain had let up some time in the night and the temperatures had dropped considerably.   Nicholas shivered as Michele led him at a brisk walk to the basilica.

            The basilica was a beautiful if somewhat gothic structure.  Built in the center of town on the site of the original Chapel of Saint Catherine, the basilica marked the sacred space used by the Maid of Orléans when she resided in Domrémy.  To the residents of the little town it was a holy place; to Nicholas it represented a job.  

            Once at the main doors the boy, Michele, fled back to his family.  But Nicholas climbed the stone steps, surveying the ancient gray structure, putting his mind into discipline to face whatever nightmares resided in this church.  Inside all was quiet; the main isle leading to the altar was dark except for the candle of the Presence Lamp.  A few cautious steps brought him into the main chapel and a floor covered in sticky blood! 

            Nicholas stepped back, summoning a light which hovered mere inches from his outstretched palm. It was sufficient to see the river of blood coating the stone floor and the bodies lined up neatly along the pews.

            "Now who would kill and then lay out the dead?" he asked himself softly.

            "I laid them out, Mein Herr," another voice spoke from the darkness.  "You will not move or I will shoot you.  Identify yourself."

            With the light hovering before him Nicholas could not place the voice.  "I am Nicholas, sent by the Vatican to exorcise this holy place.  And you?"

            From the transept behind him came soft steps and he turned to see a tall woman with striking red hair, step out of the shadows; in her hand was a pistol and she wore the distinctive green of the German army.

            "Ah, you must be part of the advance the Germans sent.  These are your men?  What happened here?"

            "Yes, I am their commander.  Lieutenant Koenig.  And they were killed by the demon; the one you are supposed to banish?"

            Nicholas nodded.  "Please, put the gun away.  I am not armed."  The lieutenant stared at the ball of light, a pointed statement.  "Well, I mean you no harm at any rate."

            The lieutenant snorted and put away her pistol.  "I was just thinking before you arrived.  My superior told me that here, in Domrémy, in 1915; we have seen a demon which has turned a church into a stronghold.  You came alone?"

            Nicholas began the long walk down the main isle, avoiding the spilled and congealing blood. 

            "Yes and no; my escort is behind me.  She should be here later this morning, I hope."

            "So.  And do you think, Herr Nicholas," Koenig said following behind the young blond man, "that you can take on this monster by yourself?"

            Nicholas stopped at the altar, offering a silent prayer to the Presence, and then going around behind the altar.

            "I don't know.  Are you a believer, by chance?"

            The lieutenant snorted.  "Not hardly.  But as is said, there are no atheists in trenches."

            Nicholas turned at those words and smiled.  "Yes, that is true."  He reached beneath the altar and offered Koenig the object.  "Put this on.  It won't hurt and it may well help."

            Koenig looked down at an antique crucifix.  Hesitantly she put it around her neck.  "Do you think this is all right?"

            Nicholas smiled again as he reemerged from behind the altar.  "God listens; even to atheists," he said with a laugh.  "And in this business, there are no non-believers."

            Lieutenant Koenig followed again as Nicholas returned to the main entrance, pausing to look both east and west along the transept.  That's when he felt it; the sudden chill; the frisson of fear and anxiety that suddenly worked its way up his spine.

            "Look out!" he shouted, pulling Koenig behind a pillar. 

            Down the transept at the western alter, the rosary window suddenly shattered, sending stained glass crashing to the stone floor.  A gigantic winged figure, at first only a shadow, thudded to the ground, crushing the glass beneath its feet.  Nicholas spun a ball of light and sent it up to the ceiling, illuminating the transept.

            "My God!" he shouted.  The creature stood over six feet tall, its wingspan was at least 12 feet across and its armored hide was caked with dried blood.  A long, sharp, razor talon was on its left arm with sharp claws extended from even longer fingers.  To Nicholas, this visage was from the bowels of hell.  In the next instant the creature leapt at their concealed place and Nicholas, grabbing Koenig by the arm, propelled them both out the door of the church.  At the top step he turned to initiate a spell, casting a magical blessing on the creature as it crashed through the door. 

            Koenig had pulled her pistol again and was unloading the clip into the creature's chest but the bullets just bounced off.

            "Mein Gott!  How do we kill this Verdammt thing?"

            Nicholas watched as the magic washed over the creature with little effect.

            "Leutnant!  Wir müssen zusammen arbeiten, wenn wir dieses Monster besiegen sollen." [4]

            Yuri realized he was seeing the world through ruby eyes. He felt himself, but he was disoriented.  He watched as he left the catacombs beneath the basilica and climbed the stairs into the pre-dawn light.  He felt his wings flex, his legs bunching to assist the leap into the chilly air and, with a strong down stroke of his wings, he flew up to the church rooftop.  That was when he realized he was fused as Amon and that Amon was in control.

            'This must be what it's like for them,' he thought. 'How strange.'

            A moment of flight and he landed on the roof, his head looking toward the east and the nacreous sunrise.   Below him, inside the church, he heard human voices and felt a presence; a sense of magicks.  He smiled a toothy grin that bared blood-stained fangs.  This would be fun.  He stepped to the edge of the building and, spreading his leathery wings once more, leapt into the window, shattering glass onto the floor below.  

            When he landed he looked around, his eyes spotting the light energy above him and the source of that light; a man with Light magicks.  Oh yes, he would feed well tonight. 

            Yuri could hear the fusion's thoughts as if they were his own.  And realized that he was about to kill yet again.  

            'No,' he thought.  'No more deaths because of me.'  Reaching out with his mind, he tried to regain control of Amon.  But the fusion shrugged him off as he pursued the humans out to the courtyard where the Light Mage struck at him with a feeble attack.  'I will sup, and you will watch; and each scream I dedicate to you; each howl of anguish I offer to you as payment for my imprisonment,' Amon's thoughts washed over Yuri's mind, adding to his burden of pain. 

            'Nooooo,' if Yuri could moan he would have.  He went over in his mind all he had learned about fusions; that he, as harmonixer and fusionist was required to dominate them; that he had to have the physical, mental, emotional and spiritual strength to fight and control their awesome forces.  That was why he had spent so much time in preparation before attempting the more dangerous fusions; including Amon.  But before, he had been stronger.  Before, he had faced God and destroyed him. Before, he had companions to rely on. 

            'Alice,' he thought.  'Before, I had Alice.  Before I killed her, she was my strength, my solace; my life and reason for living.'  And the last moments of her life came back to him, slamming into his mind.

            They had been in Rouen, and then later caught a train to Paris.  Margarete had always delighted in telling the duo about her hometown, but words could not describe the City of Lights.  Yuri had seen big cities, both Shanghai and London, but not even Shanghai could compare.  They had walked down the west bank, looking at artists stalls, buying fruit and giggling like two lovesick children.  Everyone knew they were in love; it was written in every look, every gesture that the two made.  They finally stopped in at Notre Dame Cathedral and Yuri sat in a back pew watching as Alice stepped up for Communion and silent prayer.  He may not have understood half of what she experienced when she prayed, but he understood the look in her eyes when she did so.  A light shone brightly in her eyes, like twin stars pulsing with the light of her faith and Yuri was tempted to feel a little jealous before he remembered that this was part of what she was, part of what he loved about her.  

            And then the train ride toward Switzerland and the nightmare of her death.  They had a small compartment on the right side of the train; it allowed them to watch the countryside, to bask in the remaining sunlight and kiss sweetly once Yuri had pinned her to the seat.   Yuri remembered those sweet, brief kisses; Alice's lips so small and soft, her breath sweet and as tantalizing as the gentle rise of her bosom or the long expanse of her legs.  And he had let her die. He had slept peacefully while she breathed her last and... 

            Yuri could no longer stand the thoughts that washed over his memory.  Although Amon was using his body to fight the Light Mage and his army companion, Yuri could feel tears begin to glisten in the fusion's eyes; his eyes.  

            'I am so sorry, Alice. I could not save you from the Masks; or from my own ignorance.  God if I could, I would change it.  Please forgive me,' he thought.

            Amon, facing the duo in the courtyard, pulled up suddenly and turned and fled back inside the church.  Puzzled, Nicholas and the young lieutenant followed.

            "Why did it run?  We weren't making a dent!" Koenig asked, and indeed they had not.  Nicholas's white magic did little to harm the Lord of Destruction and Koenig's bullets only annoyed him.

            At the doorway Nicholas paused, scanning the dim church interior.  "I don't know.  But you've done well.  If we could combine out magicks somehow, I think it might make a difference.  You're a fire class, yes, Lieutenant Koenig?"

            "Yes, and call me Kallen."

            "Let's see what drove this thing into the dark, shall we?" Nicholas asked and led the way inside.

            Amon was hunkered down in the main chapel, his wings flung out but his knees nearly touching the bloody floor.  He swayed from side to side, his head flung up, gaping maw of a mouth open as if to speak.  Kallen and Nicholas paused behind the creature, unsure if the thing was preparing another attack or finally admitting defeat.   Inside, Yuri's memories returned, painful and intact; each wrong turn, each wrong decision was illumined in his mind and brought a renewal of agony to the fusionist.  Further, it paralyzed the fusion as he tried to resist Yuri's pain which flowed freely into his own mind.  Behind him he could hear the soft footsteps of Kallen and Nicholas as they approached and their whispered voices as they discussed a quick strategy.  

            'It's all wrong,' Yuri thought, the pain reaching a crescendo in his mind.  His memories flooded through him and crashed into Amon, sending him reeling to his armored knees.  Above him, the vault of the church was growing brighter as the sun arced its way above the horizon, shredding the veil of the night and offering up instead a pink and golden salute to day.  As the light grew, it made its way down the vault to stop at the cross suspended above the altar.  The light on the cross caught Yuri's attention, Amon's attention and that of the two behind him as well.  The cross seemed to glow from an inner light, and Nicholas and Kallen watched in amazement as the corona of light detached itself from the cross and step onto the church floor, taking shape.

            Yuri hesitated in the flood of his memories, his heart reaching out to his beloved, the one he had failed and seeing the wash of brilliance ahead of him, he cried; cried at the memory of Alice's white light. And suddenly Amon was fighting again, struggling to control the fusion; he turned to attack the two humans but stopped when the brilliant light washed over his dark hide.

_            *Yuri …*_

            Amon turned his dark visage at the voice, a scowl like a slash crossing his brow.  With a roar of defiance he cast dark magicks at the light, but it was reflected back, passing him and causing Kallen and Nicholas to throw themselves onto the floor to avoid being hit. 

            From the bright light a figure slowly formed, a hand reaching out toward the struggling fusion, fingers tipped with white light. 

            'Alice …' Yuri's thoughts were a jumble as sight, sound and emotions warred within.  'Alice, I'm sorry.  I am so sorry …' his thoughts revolved around her life, her death, their love and their promise.  'The day you die, I'll die too,' Yuri remembered.  'Forgive me …'

            Yuri felt Amon struggling against his meager control, and he tried using his memories to strengthen him to save the people behind him in the church.  The light before him, reaching out a delicate light-laced hand toward him … He blinked, crimson eyes shifting to ebony, piercing the veil of light, seeing the figure with wings floating …

_            *Yuri, it will be fine …*_

            Yuri reached within himself, grasping the final bit of strength he had, his love for Alice.  If that was not enough, then Amon would win and kill everyone.  Behind him the exorcist Nicholas had pulled Kallen out of the line of fire and was working to form a new spell, one that would cut through the distracted demon.

_            *I forgive you, Yuri …*_

            Yuri felt warmth wash over him, a sweetness that he had not felt since he and Alice had been on the train.  He saw again the plucky exorcist battling the spiders and wolves on the plains below Changchun; he watched as she fought bravely against Li Li and again against Albert Simon and later, against God.  How much he had admired her hidden strength; how he had loved her since that first day.  Now he felt it again, that love and that presence that had been with him since the train.  Alice.  His beloved, Alice.  

            Amon felt the incursion of strength and will that the young fusionist was suddenly employing; he struggled against it in the only way he could.  He turned and let loose with devastating dark magicks at the crouching pair behind him.  At the same time, entering from the front doors was Margarete.  Startled at the scene before her, she pulled her shotgun and began to unload into the monster.

            Amon hesitated a moment at the new onslaught, giving Nicholas and Kallen a chance to move and begin their own attack.  Meanwhile Yuri felt the power of light radiating behind him and whispered, 'Alice, I love you.'  He felt strength renewed in his body and mind; his will reached out and touched Amon, piercing the fusion monster's resistance and capturing its soul. 

            'Sorry Amon, but you lose … again,' the harmonixer thought and pulled the soul of Amon into his own darkness and bound it.  Suddenly the fusion was released and, in a blur of light, the monster was replaced by a thin, haggard man who promptly collapsed to the floor.

            "Yuri!" shouted Margarete.  "Oh my God, Yuri!"

            Margarete ran down the isle, pausing only long enough to smile at Nicholas before flinging herself to her knees at Yuri's side.  Yuri was unmoving, his breath slowly failing as Margarete pulled him up onto her lap, touching his face and checking his pulse.

            ""That is your friend, Yuri, Margarete?" Nicholas asked.

            "God, yes!  He's been missing since late last year. Yuri, don't you dare …!" she cried as she realized his pulse was slowly fading beneath her fingertips.

            Yuri found himself standing, looking down at his hands. He wondered for a moment what had happened when he heard a movement and looked up.  She stood before him in the same little blue dress that she had worn that first day they had met; the same little blue dress that always sent his mind and body wandering down thoughts that his hands were forbidden to take. 

            "Alice," he said with a smile.  "Oh, God -- Alice."  He rushed forward and took her in his arms, pulling her into his strong embrace and lavishing kisses on her face, neck, and lips.  "I've missed you so much!"

            "I know Yuri," she answered and her voice was rich with meaning.

            It suddenly occurred to him, listening to her voice, that he should not hear her.  He pulled away briefly and looked back. Behind him, on the floor, lay his decimated body – a lifeless husk.  Margarete, tears in her eyes, held him close while the young exorcist stood and stared him and Alice.

            "Oh, I see.  I guess I didn't make it, then," he said.

            Alice, behind him, took his hand.  "No, you didn't."

            He watched for a moment as Margarete finally set his body down, placing the broken crimson talisman in his cold hand.  Then he turned back to Alice, her brightness turning all else to shades of gray.

            "So, if I'm dead," he paused and looked down at the gray floor, "I guess that means I have to go away now, huh?"

            "What do you mean?" Alice asked, looking up into his shining amber eyes.

            "You know; you go to heaven.   I go … somewhere else."  There was such a look of pain in his eyes when he spoke that Alice pulled his hand closer, grasping it tighter.

            "Don't you think you've paid enough?"

            Yuri looked at her, his eyes encompassing the radiant silver hair, the shimmering wings that arced behind her, the rainbow of light that shone on her from above.  He looked up but could not see where the light was coming from.

            "I don't want to lose you, Alice. I love you.  I loved you from the beginning," he said quietly.

            Alice smiled.  "I know.  I love you, too. Let's go home, Yuri.  I too have fond memories of those days.  Let's go home."  They turned away from the scene on the chapel floor and slowly the chapel faded from around them.

            Margarete set the talisman in Yuri's chilling hand and swiped at an errant tear.  She heard Nicholas, standing above her, gasp and she looked up.

            "What is it, priest?" and when she noticed he was looking elsewhere, "What are you looking at?"

            Nicholas remained silent a moment, then knelt beside the beautiful spy.  "Nothing.  It's nothing, Margarete.  I just saw two angels departing …"

            Margarete looked into Nicholas' blue eyes and smiled.  "I want to take him to Zurich, Nikki. To bury him with Alice."

            Nicholas nodded.  "I'll help.  I think we owe him that much; Kallen and I did not defeat that monster on our own."  He looked up at the brass cross above the altar; the sun had moved on and the light faded, but in his mind remained the sight of a silver-haired, white-winged angel and a young fusionist, moving on.

  


* * *

[1]     "Did he break your heart?"

[2]     "Why?"

[3]    "Really?  You would do that?  How kind!"

[4]  "We must work together if we are to defeat this monster."


	6. Redemption: The Alternate Ending

Rated "R" for Language and Violence, etc.  If thee be offended, return from whence thee came.  If not, then enjoy!

The Characters and Story of Shadow Hearts belongs to Sacnoth and Midway. Gutterfiend would not recognize her transcription so don't mention it!  Please note: My German is non-existent; my Italian is passable as is my French.  If I messed up: SORRY!  Also: like Shadow Hearts, this tale has two endings.  This one is the "Good Ending".  

_What went before:_

            Within the hour, Amon landed in a small village, the quiet broken only by the patter of rain drops on the cobbles and ... singing?  Curious, the fusion flew closer, finding a church with stained glass windows lit with candles.  Inside voices were raised in song and the fusion listened a moment before turning darkened eyes to the deeper shadows of the basilica.  A wrought iron gate tantalized the Lord of All Soul Spirits and he approached.  Beyond the gate were stone steps leading down into darkness.  In a moment, Amon had torn the gate from its hinges and descended into the dark catacombs just as the bells of Christmas chimed in the basilica above.

Today's Darkness, Tomorrow's Shadows

Chapter 5:  Redemption

_"The spectral energy is coming together.  It's a – a monster" – Koudelka_

            The dark of the catacombs was a gentle caress for the mind of the fusion.  Amon had taken up residence in the underground chambers on Christmas day, and had turned the whispering darkness into his own personal corner of Hell.  The Chapel of Saint Catherine was above him but he ruled below.   For the last two months, Amon had kept the light at bay, visiting the Chapel and directing his disgust at the residents of this little village on the Meuse.  Their prayers incensed him.  Their screams were music to his ears.  Their terror delighted him.  And after each successful lesson in terror, Amon would retreat to the comfort of the dark recesses where the whispers of the dead were solace and company.  And the continued torture of the one who imprisoned him was his pleasure.  For the fusionist was yet a matter to deal with. 

            Yuri was in the Graveyard, leaning wearily against the grave of Darkness.  He had leaned against the marker for so long that its stony coldness had left imprints on his face and bare chest.  Slowly he slid down the rough stone coming to rest on the faded grass of the marker, his cheek resting against the rune of the gravestone.  His breathing was shallow and his mind numb.  After a while, he fell back onto the grass, his arms and legs spread out, his iris-less eyes unfocused.  The weary gray of the graveyard sky, the foggy atmosphere mirrored his inner despair and the voices that usually cried out in fear and horror echoed hollowly in his ears.  The only voice he heard was Amon's. 

            The fusion monster whispered in his mind, telling tales of terror and despair that Yuri could not escape, indeed did not want to escape.  The tales were a punishment for his blindness, his stupidity – his failure.

            "Alice," like a breath he said her name, the sound a ghostly whip to his soul. "Alice."

_Yuri stood beside the small stream next to the railroad tracks.  He had deposited the girl on the ground at his feet and he was waiting patiently for her to awaken.  When she finally did, he turned to her with a wolfish grin._

_"Heh heh, pretty exciting, wasn't it?  You getting all tingly ... all tingly ... all tingly ..." he voice was echoing in the darkness and he reached down to touch her body, his hands grasping her flesh in taloned claws.  "Tough luck!  If anyone's going to eat you it's me!"_

_Yuri moaned as the memory seemed to warp and twist and turn in on itself.  'It didn't happen that way, did it?  No – nooo.'_

            "Of course it did.  And you ate her, fusionist!  You ate her body and soul, devouring your love with teeth and claw," a deep voice resounded in derisive laughter.

_Alice was a prisoner in Kuihai Tower.  Strapped into a machine that siphoned off her life force, Alice silently prayed for rescue while Dehuai, an aged, crippled warlock taunted her.  _

_"What do you think of my Spirit Machine, little Alice?  Is it not impressive?"_

_"Whatever you think you are doing to me, I will not cooperate with you, Dehuai," Alice stated, a slight tremor in her voice._

_Dehuai chuckled, a nasty sound deep in his throat.  _

_"We'll see how long that sassy little attitude lasts.  Or do you really believe that brat will come to save you?  That thrice damned, filthy Harmonixer!" Dehuai growled and turned away to a control panel.  "Bear witness, lowly maggots!  I shall soon show you the face of God!"_

_Yuri stood below them craning his neck to see onto the platform.  _

_"Alice!" he called and sprinted up the stairs to confront Dehuai._

_"Detestable Harmonixer boy!  Hyuga's bastard son!  This tower will be your grave!" Dehuai cursed at them._

_Dehuai turned toward his machine and Alice screamed in pain as energies arced around her.   Yuri climbed to the top of the stairs but Dehuai stepped in front blocking him._

_"You are too late.  The Mandala of Hell is opening; the Seraphic Radiance will be summoned and you can do nothing!"_

_"Fuck off old man!" Yuri shouted._

_Yuri leapt at the ancient Earth Sage, knocking her down; he made a quick thrust with his claws, raking them across her face, piercing skin, slicing bone, then kicked her in the head sending her blonde hair cascading onto the floor, and blood spattering her delicate complexion._

            "Alice?  No -- This isn't right!?!"

            "Of course it is!  You destroyed her with your brute strength," the resonant voice echoed in his mind, turning his memories into jumbles of pain and confusion. 

            Yuri struggled to roll over and curl into a ball, pulling himself into a protective circle in his mind.  

            'Go away!' he pulled a coherent thought together.

            The voice laughed and the echo of it rolled in his mind, mixing with the screams and cries of terror that filled the Graveyard, and Amon, his great wings open like a boastful statement, turned back to the Gate and walked into the world.  

            Yuri, curled next to the Grave of Darkness, did not hear him go, but did hear the soft pad of footsteps on the gravel approaching him from another direction.

            "Heh-Heh, still a weakling, I see," the soft voice said and then there was the scrape of cloth against stone at the speaker sat on the stone verge next to the grave.  "You can stay that way if you wish.  I have time."

            Yuri ignored the voice, hearing only the pain in his mind clawing its way to the surface.  But the continued soft breathing was like a razor slicing through his consciousness.  Finally, he relaxed from his fetal curl and looked up.  The figure resolved into a familiarity in a green Japanese army coat.

            "Damn; Fox Face.  I thought I killed you."

            The man in the Fox mask laughed, shrugging his shoulders and indicating their surroundings.

            "We _are_ in a graveyard after all.  Is this not where the dead reside?"

            "Ohhh," Yuri moaned.  "Go away."

            "Why?  So you can wallow in stupidity?"

            "Fuck off," Yuri said with a sigh.

            Fox Face chuckled softly and rose to his feet.  "Very well.  I'll be around when you need me."  He turned and walked down the path towards the lit gate.

            "Wait," Yuri said and slowly pushed himself up to sit against the gravestone.  "Why am I here?"

            Fox Face stopped, his back to Yuri, and shrugged.  "You lost.  It's that simple."

            Yuri sighed.  "What does that mean?  C'mon I'm too tired for this shit!"

            Fox Face returned to the verge and sat down next to Yuri.  

            "You lost.  Alice lost.  We all lost.  It's like a nursery rhyme.  Ring-a-round the rosy."

            Yuri frowned.  "Don't give me that shit," he sighed.

            Fox Face laughed.  "You didn't have the strength to dominate the Seraphic Radiance in Shanghai.  You lost half your stupid soul to that thing."

            "Yeah, yeah, tell me something new."

            Fox Face smiled beneath the mask.  "You tried to kill your self here, in the Graveyard and Alice bargained to free you."

            "She did?  No!  That's not what she said," Yuri sat up a little straighter, trying to focus unclear vision on the masked figure in front of him.  The Fox laughed.

            "Of course!  She sold her soul to open the Gates that was all.  She gave over herself to get access to you.  But your life; your soul was still in the pot.  It was up to you to save both your lives; and you fucked up!"

            Yuri scowled at Fox Face, running the words over in his mind. 

            "I think so.  But I don't know what I should have done."  He paused, looking around the grey and bleak landscape that was the Graveyard.  A mephitic fog was drifting in from one gate and the lights at each post were dim.  "She _is _dead?  Alice?" And at Fox Face's nod, "anyway, why am I here, now?  Am I dead too?"

            Fox Face chuckled again, shaking his masked head.  "You soon will be.  Your fusion holds your life; and your soul - because you're an idiot."  He rose again, dusting off his coat and walked back down the path towards the far gate, the fog wrapping around his legs.  

            "It's all over but for the final chorus, boy.  Do you believe in God?"

            "Of course I do; I killed the sonofabitch," Yuri growled feebly.

            Fox Face laughed as he passed beyond the Gate of Self and into the red sunset beyond.

            Yuri remained leaning against the gravestone for a few minutes before slowly sliding down to the cold hard ground, one arm flung over his head.  

            'What the fuck was that all about?' he wondered as he watched the foggy grayness of the Graveyard float around him in a miasma of misery.  

_"You may not comprehend this place, but your heart understands it full well," intoned the Gold Mask.  Yuri stood before the Four Masks, the prod of his conscience, and cursed them silently.  "This world is a reflection of you; your own mind's darkness."_

_"Yer fulla shit," Yuri spat at the Mask, but inside he trembled with the truth gnawing at his guts.  He had built this place with every tear he had shed.  He had carved each stone and lintel with each breath and cry of pain.  He looked around at the bleak atmosphere and breathed in his own despair.  'Yup, I made this place.  I guess it's fine if I die here too.'_

_"She's nearly gone, all the life sucked out of her," Zhuzhen said.  "Damn it Yuri, do something!" the old man knelt by the petit blonde woman's side, taking her limp hand in his, checking her pulse._

_"What?"_

_"I- I'm all right," Alice said faintly, her voice barely above a whisper.  "We must stop the Invocation before all is lost ..."_

_"Sure," Yuri said.  "But you gotta marry me first, okay?"_

_Halley, his hat askew from the earlier fight, turned to look at Yuri._

_"What is it with you?  Can't you do anything without thinking in your pants?"_

_Yuri turned to the child at his side._

_"Who asked you, half-pint?"_

_Keith Valentine stood at the top of the staircase.  He raised his sword, pointing at the closing door above him.  "Dehuai is getting away."_

_And next to him, Albert Simon looked down on Yuri with a smirk._

_"He has every appearance of a human, but he's a maleficent monster fit only for killing."_

_"Shut up you!" Yuri shouted._

            Yuri realized he had moved.  He was sitting up against the gravestone of Darkness, a chain looped around his neck and chest kept him bound to the stone; his right arm was extended, bound by heavy fetters to the small white grave next to him. 

            "Your fates were bound, boy."

            "Oh shut up, Fox Face!" Yuri said with a growl. 

            "Fox Face?"   The voice behind him laughed softly.  "That's a first.   Are you calling me after that silly mask you wear?"

            Puzzled, Yuri craned his neck, pulling against the chain to see who stood behind him. 

            "F-father?  -- But how?"

            The older man smiled and stepped down to the verge, taking the place that earlier had been occupied by Yuri's nemesis.

            "I've always been here, son; since the beginning.  I've watched you fight your demons.  And I watched you fail."  Ben Hyuga tilted his head to the side and watched his son from lowered eyes.  "Why is that, Yuri?  Did I not teach you enough to win?"

            "I dunno, Dad.  I don't remember so good –"

            "Yes, I suppose you were young."

            Yuri strained against the chain but was unable to loosen the bonds.  

            "You'll be here like that for a long time, son.  _He _will make sure of it."

            "He?"

            "Amon, Master of Destruction.  Even now he runs amok in the world, bringing pain and suffering to innocents.  While you ... your pain is not over yet, I'm afraid."

            "W-what do you mean, Dad?"

            The elder Hyuga shrugged.  "He is intent on revenge; something he held in common with the magus Simon.  But you are not Koudelka; nor is this a Soul Contract.  He is your fusion and you ... were too weak when you fused."  Ben sighed.  "I cannot give you more answers, son.  You must figure these things out on your own.  I guarded you while I could; but now ..." he stood with a shrug and made to leave once more.

            "Dad!  Wait!"

            Ben Hyuga walked silently down the path past the mausoleum and the laughing masks.  

            "It's there, Yuri.  You have to find it," he said and passed through the gate.

_Yuri rose from the floor, the pain receding as the voice and its power faded.  He slowly stood, shaking his head, wiping blood from his nose; it seemed the more fusion souls he had the more the voice hurt him._

_"It's been a while since I've heard that damn voice!" he grumbled.  _

_"She's watching over us," Alice said.  "Did I tell you I heard you at the graves?" she asked._

_"Huh?"_

_"You were so brave in adversity; but you also were filled with repentance.  Do you still feel that way, Yuri?"_

_"What the fuck are you talking about, Alice?  We've got to stop Dehuai?"_

_Yuri looked at the little exorcist who, instead of her usual short blue ensemble, was dressed in radiant white._

_"You already did," she said._

_Yuri hesitated, his mind working on what Alice was saying._

_"Oh.  So that means ... that means it's time for me to die, right?  Like Dad?" he asked._

_"You already did," she answered._

_"Oh."  Yuri looked around the strange house that sat along the western Welsh shore.  The wind was blowing in from the ocean, bringing with it the tang of salt and the cries of sea gulls._

_"And I brought you back," Alice finished._

_Yuri smiled.  "Then we must be getting married, right?  You said 'yes'."_

_Alice smiled.  "And so I did."_

_"Then shall we?"_

_Yuri took her arm and lead Alice down the aisle; their friends waiting in the seats of the small chapel.  Alice was dressed in a beautiful white gown, short skirted of course! And a veil of delicate lace was held in place by a small tiara.  She looked exquisite to Yuri's eyes and he could hardly contain himself as the pastor read out the old words of the wedding, binding them forever.  And as Roger Bacon intoned the words, "You may kiss the bride," Yuri raised the veil and bent down to kiss his lovely bride, her rotting, decaying lips pulled back in a rictus of death, the stench of the grave a delicate perfume from her desiccated bosom and the maggots of her teeth crawled into Yuri's mouth as his mouth covered hers and his tongue explored the rank sweetness of death that was her mouth._

_Behind them Roger Bacon laughed and smiled and announced to the assemblage: "Ladies and Gentlemen, I present Yuri and Alice Hyuga, husband and corpse."_

_Their friends cheered, and the echo of their happy voices crashed into Yuri's ears, bringing him back._

            Yuri slumped against the gravestone, pain and revulsion warring in his mind for dominance.  A movement caught his feeble attention and he watched Amon stride toward the mausoleum, the cackling of the four masks a backdrop to Yuri's anguish.

            Margarete returned to France in early February.  She was met with the problem of getting two very suspicious people through German occupied territory without being shot.  Ever innovative, she obtained an old lorry and some beaten up farm equipment from Aix-en-Provence just out of Marseille.  The equipment she put in the back of the truck and then, with both herself and the young priest in farmer's attire, began the long drive north.

            "Let's go, Padre," Margarete said with a smile.  

            The young man shook his head.  "You know Maggie, I am NOT a priest, I'm a Gregorian monk, trained in spiritual combat. I do wish you would stop that."  His words were mitigated by the infectious smile he wore.

            Margarete laughed.  "Oh ho!  I know.  But you have to admit when French Intelligence makes a mistake, they make a doozy."  Margarete was referring to her orders from Headquarters.  "Respond to Rome; return with priest skilled in White Magicks."  

            "What they should have said was 'charlatan', that would have been closer, Nikki."

            Nicholas looked across at the blond spy, his mouth pulled into a smirk.  "You know, if I hadn't been listening to that garbage all the way from Rome, I would think you were serious.  How ever did your friends put up with you all the way from China?"

            "Ah, ah-hah!  I loved teasing Yuri.  He was such a patsy," she sighed, remembering that same Yuri was missing.  "I hope you can meet him someday.  He's a real heart-breaker."

            Nikki looked askance at Margarete as she quickly maneuvered the lorry down the muddy road. 

            "Rompe il vostro cuore??" [1]

            Margarete shook her head.  "Mind your own business, _exorcist_!"

            "Ah, well at least you got the job description right this time," Nikki said softly. 

            They continued their cross country drive north through Grenoble, where they stopped for supplies and news of the war.  

            "Oui, it has been terrible," the old store owner muttered.  "The Hun he attack the hospital ship, you know the one?  The Asturias?  Sunk it down in God's blue ocean.  Killed everyone – doctors, nurses, everyone!"

            Margarete gritted her teeth at this news and wishing she had been around to do something, _any_thing to prevent it ... not that she could!  

            "And just this week the German army has attacked and taken Marie Therese in Argonne; and I think Ban-de-Sapt as well."

            "Then that means they are moving again.  Forcing the trench line further west?"

            "Mai oui, unfortunately.  You must be careful, ne's pas – you and your husband?"

            Margarete actually blushed beneath the grime on her face.   "Uhm – yes, we must.  Merci, monsieur."

            Leaving the little shop, Margarete resumed driving, sending the antique truck careening up the road at a mad pace.

            "Shouldn't we maybe slow down?" Nicholas asked, holding on to the door for dear life.

            "No time.  We've got to get through to Lorraine and up another hundred miles before nightfall."

            "Perchè?" [2]

            Margarete sighed.  "There's something I need to do; and with the German's mobilizing, pushing the western front that much further, we now have added danger getting your exorcist ass, handsome as it may be, up to Neufchâteau."

            Nicholas didn't respond but his mouth quirked a smile.  He had yet to understand Margarete, his lovely if brash escort.  She had met him in Rome, showing up at the shop in which he was employed and whisked him off to France.  He knew she had been coming; or at least that someone would be arriving from France sometime that week; the Vatican had sent notification along with his travel papers.  It did not ease his mind to realize he was being taken to France, to the Basilica of Saint Catherine, to exorcise a demon.  

            By the time they reached Besançon they were tired and disgusted with the conditions of the muddy, packed roads.

            "I wish we could have entered from Italy," Nikki said with a sigh.  "It might have been easier."

            "Oh yeah, sure," grumbled Margarete.  "Climb the bloody Italian Alps, somehow get through the German artillery bunkers set along the line; yeah, really good idea, _priest_." 

            Nicholas sighed.  "Well, I never said I was a strategist.  That's what you're here for, yes?" the blond man turned a quirky grin on the frustrated spy driving the truck.  "By the way, have I told you how lovely you look in dung brown?"

            Margarete turned sharp eyes onto the exorcist, his own 'dung brown' attire just as repulsive as her own.  "You –" She laughed then, realizing his intent.  "Funny.  Remind me to write the Pope with a letter of recommendation when this is all over."

            Nikki's eyebrows rose into his bangs.  "Realmente? Fareste quello? Come genere!?"  [3]

            Margarete scowled at the young man a moment before she realized he was serious.  She shook her head and drove on, part of her mind on the road ahead, the mission at hand and another part remembering another white mage whose death she had not reconciled: Alice Elliot.  

            "Nikki ..." she hesitated before plunging ahead, "Nikki I have to stop in Strasbourg.  There's something I left there that might help.  I dunno.  I had a feeling when I read the report is all."

            "Significate??"  

            Margarete shrugged as she maneuvered the old truck past a disabled horse cart left abandoned along the road.  

            "I don't know.  Maybe nothing.  But I have to stop and again I remind you, Nikki, speak German or French, not Italian!"

            Nikki blushed, a becoming color with his pale blonde complexion.  "Scusi." 

            At Epinal they pulled over, Nikki taking the wheel of the truck.  

            "You go on ahead and I'll catch up with you.  And Nikki ... be careful."

            The young exorcist smiled.  "I will."  He engaged the clutch on the old lorry and pulled ahead leaving Margarete on the road to Strasbourg while he continued toward Neufchâteau and Domrémy just beyond.

_Yuri was digging his own grave; he knew it but didn't see any point of concern.  With each swing of the old hoe he dug a little deeper, a little wider.  Soon the grave would be deep enough for him to lie down in.  Concentrating on his digging he did not hear the soft voice whisper behind him._

_"Yuri?  What are you doing?"_

_It was his mom's voice._

_"I'm helping dad, you know that.  I'm a good boy; I help any way I can."_

_His mother, a tall willowy figure in green dress and white blouse stepped closer, a restraining hand stopping his digging._

_"Is this how you were taught to dig a garden?" she asked.  Then a slight frown creased her brow.  "And did you finish your lessons first?  I want you to be educated, even if we do live in the middle of nowhere."_

_"Ah mom," Yuri said with a sigh, stopping long enough to wipe sweat from his brow.  "I'll study later.  I gotta help dad."_

_"I am glad you do.   Just remember Yuri: the seeds you plant today you will harvest in the hereafter."_

_Yuri turned puzzled eyes onto the diminutive woman.  "Huh?"_

_Alice shook her head.  "Will you stop – please?" she finally shouted._

_"Heh-heh, Alice?  I didn't see you there."_

_Alice sighed.  "Will you stop this nonsense?  You're not helping your father; you're digging a grave.  And it's not necessary.  You're not dead."_

_"Oh, but he will be," a deeper voice said from behind the tree and Alice looked up to see a stranger emerge. As tall as Yuri the figure wore an old green Japanese army coat but the face was a mask: a disfigured, malformed mask with a nasty slit of a mouth and eyes in the wrong place, one open the other a mere slit._

_Alice shuddered looking at the foul mask.  "Who are you?  And what do you want?"_

_"You may call me Atman," the masked figure said.  "And I already have what I want."_

_"Dad," Yuri said oblivious to the exchange, "is this deep enough?"_

_"We've had this conversation before," Alice said with confusion in her blue eyes._

_"No, you only think you have," Atman replied.  Then turning to Yuri he said, "Dig deeper, stupid!"_

_Yuri nodded and began digging again._

_"Stop!  Yuri!" Alice shouted, and Yuri stopped digging once more and turned toward her._

_"Yes?" he asked, puzzled.  "What do you want?"_

_"I want your heart's blood, fool," Alice said softly and grabbing the hoe from Yuri, struck him across the face, sending him crashing into the dirt._

_"No!" he groaned as blood spurted from the vicious gash in his cheek.  "No --" he stood and snatched the hoe from Alice.  "It didn't happen this way!"_

            Yuri moaned in protest as a sharp pain pierced his chest.  Blurry eyes tried to focus on the dark figure looming over him but came to rest on the glowing red eye mere inches from his own.  Yuri tried to pull back only to come up against the gravestone and he realized he was still in the Graveyard.  A deep chuckle rumbled from beneath the eye and then Amon came into focus, his tongue licking red blood from his dark lips.

            "Your soul's blood, Harmonixer - better than elixir!"  

            Yuri looked down to see the deep gouge where Amon's claws had punctured him, scoring along his flesh and pulling blood vessels to the surface and slicing through; each beat of his heart sent a pulse of blood coursing down his scared chest.

            "What is yer fucking problem, demon?" Yuri managed to growl.

            Amon reached out, his gigantic hand grasping Yuri's face, his talons piercing the skin like razors.

            "Still fighting, little fusionist?" the demon laughed.  "Good.  Prolong your suffering; it is delicious."  Amon thrust Yuri's head back against the gravestone and lumbered away.

            Yuri leaned against the chains yet binding him to the Darkness gravestone, feeling the bite of the links on his flesh. 

            'He's playin' with me,' he thought.  'But why?  I'm already condemned to Hell.  Or is _this_ my Hell?'

_He can't bear the dark fate of a Harmonixer," Fox Face said, kicking dirt at Yuri._

_Alice ran up the slope to intervene between the masked man and Yuri.  "Stop it!  Please!"_

_Fox Face snarled, offering a fist to Alice.  "Do you want some of this too?  I hate that whiney crap!"_

_"Yuri please," the young exorcist begged, turning deep blue eyes onto her friend.  "It doesn't have to be like this.  Don't grieve!"  Alice reached out and tugged hard on Yuri's shoulder, trying to pull him back from the hole he was digging. "You can still make a difference." _

_Yuri paused in his grave digging; he wiped sweat from his brow and glanced up at Fox Face.  He frowned._

_"Yeah.  You said that before.  If I lose, if I collapse or spit blood ... it doesn't matter, 'cause I'm still alive.  I'll will always get up and fight again."_

            The gray of the Graveyard weighed on him like stone.  Yuri, pulling against the chains, could not get free.  The echoing screeches of despair and pain that were the constant background chorus were like the wailing of a banshee.  Yuri sighed. 

            "I know yer there.  Come out, why don't ya?" he said softly.

             Fox Face approached from the mausoleum, stopping at the grassy verge by Yuri's stone.  Yuri looked up at the masked face and could swear he was smiling.

            "Share the joke?" he asked wearily.

            "The joke will be on us if you do not succeed."

            Yuri attempted a half-hearted scowl.  "Cryptic as always.  Can't ya just say what you mean?"

            Fox Face sat on the verge, turning toward Yuri.  He reached up and gently wiped blood from Yuri's face.  

            "Your time is almost done.  He has sucked what he can from you; if you cannot defeat him now ..." he paused significantly.

            Yuri snorted.  "If I wasn't strong enough before, what makes ya think I can do it now?"

            Fox Face shook his head.  He reached up and removed the mask, revealing Yuri's own face.

            "Not alone; but with help."

            "You?"

            Fox Face/Yuri chuckled.  "Not hardly.  Just remember: ask for help."

            Yuri blinked, taken aback by the statement.  It sharply reminded him of his attempt to capture the Seraphic Radiance; he had called for help and Fox Face answered.  At the time he had no idea who or what the fox masked figure was; the physical manifestation of Yuri's own soul.

            "Are you saying you'll help?"

            Fox Face/Yuri shook his head.  "Didn't I just say I would not?"

            Yuri felt a trickle of anger rise in him.  "Then what the fuck use are ya?"

            Fox Face/Yuri shook his head.  "God but you're dense sometimes."  He stood and, taking up the fox mask, crushed it with his hands, letting the pieces rain down onto the verge.

            Yuri didn't know what to say.  He watched as Fox Face slowly walked toward the opposite hill where the stones for Light and Wind rested.  The runes in each were glowing; he hadn't noticed that before, so he craned his neck, pulling away from the Darkness gravestone; it too glowed.

            "So what is this all about?"

            Fox Face/Yuri shrugged.  "He's coming.  Remember what I said."  He stepped up onto the opposite verge and stood next to the gravestones.  He placed his hand on the Light grave marker and began to fade, becoming translucent then vanished.

            "Oh, right.  Pull a disappearing act on me," Yuri grumbled.  But when he noticed the disturbance at the Main gate he felt fear grip his guts, his heart beating heavily in his chest.  "Oh shit."

            Amon stepped through from the World, his black scaled armor gleaming in the gray light of the Graveyard.  His armor was stained crimson and Yuri shuddered, knowing that someone or something had died not long ago at Amon's hands.  He watched in trepidation as the giant fusion monster stepped up onto the grass beside him and squatted down.  Face to face with the fusion, Yuri felt very small.

            With one hand Amon sliced through the chains binding Yuri to the grave makers, while his other hand picked him up by the neck, pulling Yuri up to his face, breathing fetid breath on the weak fusionist.  Then, with a wicked laugh, he began to pull Yuri into his body; inch by agonizing inch the harmonixer was encompassed by the fusion and Yuri began to scream, fear and agony ripping out of him in gut-wrenching shrieks and a cry for help!

            Nikki pulled the ancient lorry into the alley behind the hotel.  He had arrived well after midnight and expected to only get a few hours of needed sleep before tackling the demon problem.  He left the lorry and checked into the hotel and ordering a hot bath.  Whatever he might think of Margarete's idea of transportation, she had managed to get him to Domrémy safely.  Now if she would get back from Strasbourg he would feel much better about this.  

            A knocking at his door woke him before sunrise.  The innkeeper was speaking so quickly that Nikki had difficulty following what he said.  But he nodded and waived the man off as he pulled on his clothes; the clean white clothes he wore while working for the Vatican.  Once downstairs he saw what was happening.  Several locals had gathered in the inn common room, the children tearful and the men angry.

            "What has happened?" he asked the innkeeper once he located the elder man amongst the crowd.

            "A demon, monsieur prêtre; attacked and killed soldiers in the chapel.  These found the remains this very hour.  If there is anything you can do?" the man looked at Nikki expectantly.

            Nicholas nodded.  "I was going there this morning.  I will leave now, if someone will show me the way?"

            "Oui, monsieur.  Immédiatement."  The innkeeper rushed away only to return a moment later with a young man.  "Michele will take you, monsieur."

            Nicholas nodded to the boy and they left the inn.  Outside was still dark, dawn yet half an hour off, and stars still shown in the night sky.  The rain had let up some time in the night and the temperatures had dropped considerably.   Nicholas shivered as Michele led him at a brisk walk to the basilica.

            The basilica was a beautiful if somewhat gothic structure.  Built in the center of town on the site of the original Chapel of Saint Catherine, the basilica marked the sacred space used by the Maid of Orléans when she resided in Domrémy.  To the residents of the little town it was a holy place; to Nicholas it represented a job.  

            Once at the main doors the boy, Michele, fled back to his family.  But Nicholas climbed the stone steps, surveying the ancient gray structure, putting his mind into discipline to face whatever nightmares resided in this church.  Inside all was quiet; the main isle leading to the altar was dark except for the candle of the Presence Lamp.  A few cautious steps brought him into the main chapel and a floor covered in sticky blood! 

            Nicholas stepped back, summoning a light which hovered mere inches from his outstretched palm. It was sufficient to see the river of blood coating the stone floor and the bodies lined up neatly along the pews.

            "Now who would kill and then lay out the dead?" he asked himself softly.

            "I laid them out, Mein Herr," another voice spoke from the darkness.  "You will not move or I will shoot you.  Identify yourself."

            With the light hovering before him Nicholas could not place the voice.  "I am Nicholas, sent by the Vatican to exorcise this holy place.  And you?"

            From the transept behind him came soft steps and he turned to see a tall woman, with striking red hair, step out of the shadows; in her hand was a pistol and she wore the distinctive green of the German army.

            "Ah, you must be part of the advance the Germans sent.  These are your men?  What happened here?"

            "Yes, I am their commander.  Lieutenant Koenig.  And they were killed by the demon; the one you are supposed to banish?"

            Nicholas nodded.  "Please, put the gun away.  I am not armed."  The lieutenant stared at the ball of light, a pointed statement.  "Well, I mean you no harm at any rate."

            The lieutenant snorted and put away her pistol.  "I was just thinking before you arrived.  My superior told me that here, in Domrémy, in 1915, we have seen a demon which has turned a church into a stronghold.  You came alone?"

            Nicholas began the long walk down the main isle, avoiding the spilled and congealing blood. 

            "Yes and no; my escort is behind me.  She should be here later this morning, I hope."

            "So.  And do you think, Herr Nicholas," Koenig said following behind the young blond man, "that you can take on this monster by yourself?"

            Nicholas stopped at the altar, offering a silent prayer to the Presence, and then going around behind the altar.

            "I don't know.  Are you a believer, by chance?"

            The lieutenant snorted.  "Not hardly.  But as is said, there are no atheists in trenches."

            Nicholas turned at those words and smiled.  "Yes, that is true."  He reached beneath the altar and offered Koenig the object.  "Put this on.  It won't hurt and it may well help."

            Koenig looked down at an antique crucifix.  Hesitantly she put it around her neck.  "Do you think this is all right?"

            Nicholas smiled again as he reemerged from behind the altar.  "God listens; even to atheists," he said with a laugh.  "And in this business, there are no non-believers."

            Lieutenant Koenig raised one delicate eyebrow, but followed again as Nicholas returned to the main entrance, pausing to look both east and west along the transept.  That's when he felt it; the sudden chill; the frisson of fear and anxiety that suddenly worked its way up his spine.

            "Look out!" he shouted, pulling Koenig behind a pillar. 

            Down the transept at the western alter, the rosary window suddenly shattered, sending stained glass crashing to the stone floor.  A gigantic winged figure, at first only a shadow, thudded to the ground, crushing the glass beneath its feet.  Nicholas spun a ball of light and sent it up to the ceiling, illuminating the transept.

            "My God!" he shouted.  The creature stood over six feet tall, its wingspan was at least 12 feet across and its armored hide was caked with dried blood.  A long, sharp, razor talon was on its left arm with sharp claws extending from even longer fingers; to Nicholas, this visage was from the bowels of hell.  In the next instant the creature leapt at their concealed place and Nicholas, grabbing Koenig by the arm, propelled them both out the door of the church.  At the top step he turned to initiate a spell, casting a magical blessing on the creature as it crashed through the door. 

            Koenig had pulled her pistol again and was unloading the clip into the creature's chest but the bullets just bounced off.

            "Mein Gott!  How do we kill this Verdammt thing?"

            Nicholas watched as the magic washed over the creature with little effect.

            "Leutnant!  We must work together if we are to defeat this monster!"

            "Fine!  Damn bullets anyway!" the lieutenant was shaking as she put away her pistol from the combination of adrenaline and fear.  "What do you suggest?"

            "You're fire class, Lieutenant?  Can you use your fire magic with my light?"

            Koenig thought a moment.  "I have a better idea," she said pulling her pistol out once more.  "Use your magicks on my bullets!"

            Nicholas nodded with a smile and did just that, blessing the gun and its contents to do the maximum damage to a dark creature of the pits.  He also prayed it would work as Kallen began to empty her clip at the monster.

            Yuri realized he was seeing the world through ruby eyes. He felt himself, but he was disoriented.  He watched as he left the catacombs beneath the basilica and climbed the stairs into the pre-dawn light.  He felt his wings flex, his legs bunching to assist the leap into the chilly air and, with a strong down stroke of his wings, he flew up to the church rooftop.  That was when he realized he was fused as Amon and that Amon was in control.

            'This must be what it's like for them,' he thought.  'How strange.'

            A moment of flight and he landed on the roof, his head looking toward the east and the nacreous sunrise.   Below him, inside the church, he heard human voices and felt a presence; a sense of magicks.  He smiled a toothy grin that bared blood-stained fangs.  This would be fun.  He stepped to the edge of the building and, spreading his leathery wings once more, leapt into the window, shattering glass onto the floor below.  

            When he landed he looked around, his eyes spotting the light energy above him and the source of that light; a man with Light magicks.  Oh yes, he would feed well tonight. 

            Yuri could hear the fusion's thoughts as if they were his own.  And realizing that he was about to kill yet again, Yuri panicked.  

            'No, you can't!' he thought, reaching out with his mind, trying to regain control of Amon.  But the fusion shrugged him off as he pursued the humans out to the courtyard where the Light Mage struck at him with a feeble attack.  'I will sup, and you will watch; and each scream I dedicate to you; each howl of anguish I offer to you as payment for my imprisonment,' Amon's thoughts washed over Yuri's mind. 

            'Nooooo,' if Yuri could moan he would have.  He went over in his mind all he had learned about fusions; that he, as harmonixer and fusionist was required to dominate them; that he had to have the physical, mental, emotional and spiritual strength to fight and control their awesome forces.  That was why he had spent so much time in preparation before attempting the more dangerous fusions; including Amon.  But before, he had been stronger.  Before, he had faced God and destroyed him. Before, he had companions to rely on. 

            'Alice,' he thought.  'Before, I had Alice.  Before I killed her, she was my strength, my solace; my life and reason for living.'  And the last moments of her life came back to him, slamming into his mind.

            They had been in Rouen, and then later caught a train to Paris.  Margarete had always delighted in telling the duo about her hometown, but words could not describe the City of Lights.  Yuri had seen big cities, both Shanghai and London, but not even Shanghai could compare.  They had walked down the west bank, looking at artists stalls, buying fruit and giggling like two lovesick children.  Everyone knew they were in love; it was written in every look, every gesture that the two made.  They finally stopped in at Notre Dame Cathedral and Yuri sat in a back pew watching as Alice stepped up for Communion and silent prayer.  He may not have understood half of what she experienced when she prayed, but he understood the look in her eyes when she did so.  A light shone brightly in her eyes, like twin stars pulsing with the light of her faith and Yuri was tempted to feel a little jealous before he remembered that this was part of what she was, part of what he loved about her.  

            And then the train ride toward Switzerland and the nightmare of her death.  They had a small compartment on the right side of the train; it allowed them to watch the countryside, to bask in the remaining sunlight and kiss sweetly once Yuri had pinned her to the seat.   Yuri remembered those sweet, brief kisses; Alice's lips so small and soft, her breath sweet and as tantalizing as the gentle rise of her bosom or the long expanse of her legs.  And he had let her die. He had slept peacefully while she breathed her last and... 

            Yuri could no longer stand the thoughts that washed over his memory.  Although Amon was using his body to fight the Light Mage and his army companion, Yuri could feel tears begin to glisten in the fusion's eyes; his eyes.  

            'I am so sorry, Alice. I could not save you from the Masks; or from my own ignorance.  God if I could, I would change it.  Please forgive me,' he thought.

            Amon, facing the duo in the courtyard, pulled up suddenly and turned and fled back inside the church.  Puzzled, Nicholas and the young lieutenant followed.

            "Why did it run?  We weren't making a dent!" Koenig asked, and indeed they had not.  Nicholas's white magic did little to harm the Lord of Destruction and Koenig's bullets, blessed and sanctified though they had been, only annoyed him.

            At the doorway Nicholas paused, scanning the dim church interior.  "I don't know.  But you've done well.  If we could just find some combination of our magicks, something to actually hurt the creature, I think it might make a difference."

            "Possibly; and call me Kallen."  Kallen holstered her gun and pulled her small sword.  "Perhaps I should try this instead.  I'm a fair hand at a sword and can use the fire ..." she offered.

            Nicholas nodded.  "Let's see what drove this thing into the dark, shall we?" he asked and led the way inside.

            Amon was hunkered down in the main chapel, his wings flung out but his knees nearly touching the bloody floor.  He swayed from side to side, his head flung up, gaping maw of a mouth open as if to speak.  Kallen and Nicholas paused behind the creature, unsure if the thing was preparing another attack or finally admitting defeat.   Inside, Yuri's memories returned, painful and intact; each wrong turn, each wrong decision was illumined in his mind and brought a renewal of agony to the fusionist.  Further, it paralyzed the fusion as he tried to resist the will of the fusionist.  Behind him he could hear the soft footsteps of Kallen and Nicholas as they approached and their whispered voices as they discussed a quick strategy.  

            Above him the vault of the church was growing brighter as the sun arced its way above the horizon, shredding the veil of the night and offering up instead a pink and golden salute to day.  As the light grew, it made its way down the vault to stop at the cross suspended above the altar.  And the light on the cross caught Yuri's attention, Amon's attention, and that of the two behind him as well.  The cross seemed to glow from an inner light, and Nicholas and Kallen watched in amazement as the corona of light seemed to detach from the cross and step onto the church floor, taking shape.  

            Yuri hesitated in the flood of his memories, his heart reaching out to his beloved, the one he had failed and, seeing the wash of brilliance ahead of him, he cried; cried at the memory of Alice's white light.  And suddenly Amon was fighting again, struggling to control the fusion; he turned to attack the two humans but stopped when the brilliant light washed over his dark hide.

_            *Yuri ...*_

            Amon turned his dark visage at the voice, a scowl like a slash crossing his brow.  With a roar of defiance he cast dark magicks at the light, but it was reflected back, passing him and causing Kallen and Nicholas to throw themselves onto the floor to avoid being hit.  

            Yuri fought against Amon, using his memories to strengthen his resolve, to try to save himself and the people behind him in the church.  The light beneath the cross continued to increase until it was blinding and Yuri could swear someone or something was standing inside the light. From the bright light a figure slowly formed, a hand reaching out toward the struggling fusion, fingers tipped with white light, a sword raised high in her hands.  He blinked, crimson eyes shifting to ebony, piercing the veil of light, seeing the figure with wings floating …

            'Alice...' Yuri's thoughts were a jumble as sight, sound and emotions warred within.  'Alice, I'm sorry.  I am so sorry ...' his thoughts revolved around her life, her death, their love and their promise.  'The day you die, I'll die too,' Yuri remembered.  'Forgive me …'

_            *Yuri, I believe in you …*_

            Yuri reached within himself, grasping the final bit of strength he had, his love for Alice.  If that was not enough, then Amon would win and kill everyone.  Behind him the exorcist Nicholas had pulled Kallen out of the line of fire and was working to form a new spell, one that would cut through the distracted demon even as Kallen ignited her sword, fire spilling down the bloodline.  

_            *Live for me, Yuri…*_

            Amon felt the incursion of strength and will that the young fusionist was employing; he struggled against it in the only way he could.  He turned and let loose with devastating dark magicks at the crouching pair behind him.  At the same time, entering from the front doors was Margarete.  Startled at the scene before her, she pulled her shotgun and began to unload into the monster.

_            *Fight for me…*_

            Amon hesitated a moment at the new onslaught, giving Nicholas and Kallen a chance to move and begin their own attack.  Meanwhile Yuri heard the voice, and felt the power of the light radiating behind him and whispered, 'Alice, I love you.'  He felt a sudden renewal of his strength, in body and mind, and he reached out with his will and touched Amon, piercing the fusion monster's resistance and capturing its soul.

            Yuri found himself back in the Graveyard, the gray fog curling around his feet.  A sound caught his attention and he looked beyond the strand with the grave markers of Darkness and Alice Elliot.  At the entrance to the mausoleum stood Amon, his wings spread wide as if to take flight.  With a growl Yuri launched himself from the Gateway and pounded down the path to confront both Amon and the masks.  

            "Will you fight all of us, boy?" cackled the Sword Mask as it turned on its axis.

            "Fuck off!  Amon!  You're mine!"  

            The fusion monster leapt to meet Yuri half way, the two colliding with a thud at the base of the mausoleum steps.  Yuri felt the impact of the fusion monster as it hit him, pushing him backwards and onto the ground.  With one leg he swept the monster aside and jumped up, claws to the ready and jabbed with first his right then his left, grazing the creature's right arm as it went by.  Amon growled at the contact.

            Yuri spun quickly to face Amon as he turned and swept his left arm at the fusionist, the razor extending from wrist to elbow on the fusion monster grazing Yuri's chest, slicing open his shirt and the skin beneath but missing vital organs.  Yuri offered a lop-sided grin at the fusion and flicked his fingers, offering a 'come on' to the monster.  Amon responded with a leap, wings unfurled and sharp claws ready to rake and puncture the human, but Yuri wasn't there.  He jumped back, his speed increasing as he turned the jump into a somersault that landed him back by the Gate of Self.  He reached out and snagged up a stone from the verge and, hefting it experimentally, leapt closer, bashing Amon on the side of his head, laughing at the unexpected nature of it and Amon's momentary confusion.  In passing the monster, Yuri ran his Nightbird Claws along the creature's back, slicing into its wings, shredding the tendons and veins.  Amon howled in pain and turned to assault Yuri.  But Yuri kept moving, spinning around even as Amon turned to confront him, and slipped under his foe's arms, coming up inside his guard and punching with his right fist, sending the claw deep into Amon's unprotected belly.

            Amon moved back, a look of startled pain and confusion on its dark face, black ichor bubbling from his gut.

            Yuri smiled at the fusion and gestured before stepping up to grasp the creature's bladed left arm.  The Graveyard spun out of control momentarily and Yuri felt himself slipping away; the familiar feeling of returning to the real world.

_            *Bring light to the world…*_

            'Sorry Amon. But you lose … again,' the harmonixer thought and pulled the soul of Amon into his own darkness and bound it.  Suddenly the fusion was released and, in a blur of light, the monster was replaced by a thin, haggard man who promptly collapsed to the floor.

            "Yuri!" shouted Margarete.  "Oh my God, Yuri!"

            Margarete ran down the isle, pausing only long enough to smile at Nicholas before flinging herself to her knees at Yuri's side.  Yuri was unmoving but breathing and Margarete pulled him up onto her lap, touching his face and checking his pulse.  

            "That is your friend, Yuri, Margarete?" Nicholas asked.

            "God, yes!  He's been missing since late last year," she said as she offered tentative strokes along his forehead, partly in comfort and partly to be sure he was real.  "I didn't know if he was alive …"

            "I'm alive," Yuri muttered from her lap and opened iris-less black eyes to stare blearily at the beautiful spy.  "Good to see you, Maggie."

            Margarete quickly pulled him to her, embracing him. "Ah-ahha, sonny boy, don't ever scare me like that again."  She felt Yuri's faint laugh.  With a faint sigh she hugged him close for a moment.  "I'm sorry, Yuri.  I am so sorry about Alice," she said softly.

            "I know – me too," he said, voice muffled.  "Uhm," he said with a sigh.  "Soft; nice."

            Margarete looked down at the young fusionist, his face resting against her cleavage and merely laughed, just glad to have found him alive.  "Some day you'll have to explain all this to me," she said and looked up at the cross above the altar; its luminescence was passing and it looked like more and more like a plain brass cross.  "But not today.  And I have something of yours."  She indicated the satchel back by the main entrance.  

            "Could I get one of you to bring that here, please?"  

            Nicholas nodded distractedly, but fetched the satchel, one eye on Margarete and the injured man and another on the altar.  There was something ...

            Nicholas returned and set the satchel at Margarete's feet and Margarete opened the satchel and handed Yuri his Nightbird claws.

            "Ahh, thank goodness.  I thought I'd lost them," he said weakly, pulling away from Margarete to take the claws in his hands. 

            "And Alice's book is here too.  Oh!  And this," she offered the amulet.

            Yuri took the talisman in hand and looked at the red and cracked stone.  "Hmm, can tell I lost it, huh?"  He looked up toward the altar and the remembered light figure that had offered him strength.  "Atman.  The Masks.  Yeah, we got unfinished business." 

            Nicholas was still looking up at the altar, the glow of light crystallizing into rainbow shards.

            "Did anyone else see the ... the ..." he hesitated.

            "What?" Kallen asked.

            Yuri looked up at the altar and the bronze cross, the light slowly fading from it as the sun moved higher up in the sky.  For a moment he saw the light tracery, like lace, a pair of wings; a sword of light held high –

            "Yes.  Yes," he said softly and Margarete frowned at him then caught her breath as she watched his eyes change, first from coal black, then to amber and finally to deep crimson red.

            "What will you do now, kiddo?"

            Yuri sighed.  "Rest first," he said with a crooked grin.  "Then food, please; I'm starved!"

            Margarete laughed.  "I warn you, Nicholas, this kid has a bottomless gullet!  Two hollow legs!"

            Yuri smiled at the remembered phrases that Margarete was fond of using when it came to his stomach.  "And then, -- I don't know, maybe help these people.  I assume you came looking for trouble?"

            Nicholas smiled.  "And found it. But it looks like we've also found a companion. I do have work in this area, and I would like the lieutenant –

            "Kallen, remember?" the young woman interrupted.

            Nicholas nodded.  "Kallen to join me.  She has potential; and I like her style.  She's too good for the German army anyway."

            Kallen looked startled, then nodded.  "I have had my own revelation it seems," she said softly.  "I cannot continue in this war the way I am.  I don't know myself anymore.  Too many killings," and she looked at the bodies yet lining the church pews.

            Nicholas nodded his understanding.  "So, will you travel with us?" he asked Yuri.

            "If you will have me.  I have a debt to pay," Yuri said and looked up at the cross, the memory of the light and winged being he saw, the angel.  "Alice," he whispered.  "My angel wants me to fight, and bring light to the world.  Then fight I will.  And God help anyone who gets in my way."            

  


* * *

[1]     "Did he break your heart?"

[2]     "Why?"

[3]    "Really?  You would do that?  How kind!"


End file.
